


Stone Cold

by prisma134



Series: Living Again [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, Abuse, Abuse of Authority, Alternate Universe - Mob, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Avengers Mafia, Body Image, Bottom Steve Rogers, Brock Rumlow needs to die, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Saves Steve, Bucky is Nat's adopted brother, Creepy Brock Rumlow, Depressed Steve Rogers, Drug Use, Drugs, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Forced Orgasm, Forced Prostitution, Gang Violence, Gangs, Heartache, Howard and Tony are cousins, Hurt, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, Hydra Mafia, Intrusive Thoughts, Kissing, Love, Love at First Sight, M/M, Malnutrition, Minor Character Death, Mobster Bucky, Non-Consensual Drug Use, One rape scene, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Prince Charming Bucky, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Natasha Romanov, Rape, Rape Recovery, Recovery, References to Drugs, Russian Mafia, Sad, Self Confidence Issues, Self Consciousness, Self depreciation, Self-Denial, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Abuse, Skip it if you want to, So much angst, Starvation, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers Recovery, Stockholm Syndrome, Strangers to Lovers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Top Bucky Barnes, Touch-Starved, True Love, Trust, Trust Issues, Verbal Abuse, Victim Blaming, Violence, abusive past relationship, ache, body consciousness, hand holding, protective friends, salvery, supportive friends, towards the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 12:38:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 48,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11313570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prisma134/pseuds/prisma134
Summary: Brock Rumlow was sleek and caring and kind and oh so doting on Steve when they first met. He'd sauced him up, told him he was pretty little thing that just needed to be taken care of. And Steve believed him. He moved in with Brock not even two months after knowing him, starved for so much affection and so willing to let it happen. Brock sent him to a proper school with proper art supplies, and bought him all of the nicest things he could ever ask for. Steve didn't know where he got the money from, and truth be told he didn't really want to know. But for the time being in those rose tinted four months, life was good and it wasn't as shitty as it had started.But then, reality came crashing down. Steve stumbled in late one night after closing up for his professor and witnessed something he shouldn't have.From that moment on Steve Rogers was nothing but a phantom and a whisk of a memory until the day that Bucky Barnes stepped into his life.***A mob AU in which Steve is a captive under his once boyfriend, and Bucky saves him while in the midst of a raiding party.





	Stone Cold

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize in advance for everything you feel while reading this. It's truly one of my favorites and I loved writing it so much, it took me two months to work on and thus as unhealthily absorbed my life. I suggest you read the tags.

Sometimes Steve wondered how he got himself into this situation.  _ _Logically__ , he knew how, but emotionally he didn't understand. 

He had been ten years old when his mother had died in a house fire that the source was never identified of, and Steve had some how miraculously survived the flames. The only thing he had to show for it was a small scar on his ankle where he had accidentally scraped into some sharp metal while trying to stumble outside of the house. Her death was only the beginning to his problems. His father, a strong and tall man, was left taking care of Steve all by himself. It had been fine in the beginning and Steve had been okay, but as the year rolled on more problems came up. His father's health began to fail him, and he tried to keep Steve safe and healthy, but before long Steve was trudging home from school only to find his father collapsed and dead on the floor of their living room from heart failure. From there, he was deposited into the foster care system for seven long grueling years.  

He fought tooth and nail in the system from the foster homes he was placed in and the group homes he was stuck in where he was abused by his foster parents and the kids stuck there just like him. However, he made it out alive and whole. He was so small and skinny and alone out there that sometimes people would mistake him for a kid, and he'd end up at the station only to have to tell them who he was and then his file out be brought out and he would be verified as one Steven Grant Rogers. 

This happened often enough until one day it just stopped when Steve started going to art school. Well, technically he was living in a shit hole of an apartment and living from hand to mouth and going to community classes that only cost $50 a month, but it didn't matter. He was starting to make a name for himself and be recognized, and soon enough he was climbing up the ranks. But then, Brock stepped into his life.

Brock Rumlow who was sleek and caring and kind and oh so doting on Steve when they first met. He'd sauced him up, told him he was pretty little thing that just needed to be taken care of. And Steve believed him. He moved in with Brock not even two months after knowing him, starved for so much affection and so willing to let it happen. Brock sent him to a proper school with proper art supplies, and bought him all of the nicest things he could ever ask for. Steve didn't know where he got the money from, and truth be told he didn't really want to know. But for the time being in those rose tinted four months, life was good and it wasn't as shitty as it had started. 

But then, reality came crashing down. Steve stumbled in late one night after closing up for his professor and witnessed something he shouldn't have. He walked in late to see Brock and some men he'd never seen before crowded at their kitchen table and speaking in hushed voices. Brock was sitting there with a threatening aura around him, and Steve inwardly flinched and shied away. He hid in the shadows and watched the scene play out in front of him, Brock sitting there one minute calm and collected and then the next he was flat on the floor with a busted nose and having a cold calculating man step over him and leave the apartment. 

Brock got to his feet and scanned the room and his eyes settled on Steve, and gone were the salad days. That night, Brock beat Steve so hard he couldn't leave the house for two weeks. From there, Brock made it up with gifts and promises and 'I'm so sorry, honey's'. Steve fell for it all, hook line and sinker. From there it only got worse, Brock seemed to trust him now but he didn't care for him the same way he used to and that was obvious. He started taking him to work with him and there Steve was privy to what Brock truly did. He was an underling for the Hydra mafia (the only rival to the Avengers mafia run by a mysterious man by the name of James Barnes) and the right hand man to Alexander Pierce. Steve had heard the rumors about him, and soon after he tried to leave Brock, but he wouldn't let him. 

Right under Steve's nose, Brock had erased who he was from every record and Steve was forced to stay with him or end up penniless on the streets and die from exposure or starvation in some back alleyway. So from there, Brock was able to trap Steve in completely. For a while he let Steve off free and easy, but then he started to charge Steve for things, simple things, and Steve was forced to pay it all back. But with no money to his name, he was forced to use his body to pay it back to Brock and be passed around by whoever Brock wanted if he chose to do so. On top of that, the beatings were a regular thing and soon enough Steve grew accustomed to the life as Brock's bitch. 

On this night, as with other night's, Brock had left Steve tied up and blindfolded in some closet in the back of the mob's warehouse. Steve was used to it by now, but it still left him insecure and messed up. He was naked for one, so it was cold and he was shivering and wet from the leaky pipe above his head, and on top of that he was left with silence and his thoughts and his broken body. He was tired and cold and hungry and hurt, and all he wanted to do was have Brock come back and just get whatever he was going to do to him over with so he could crawl away and eat the scraps that he had left for him. 

Outside, he heard scuffles and shooting and yelling, but he was used to it. He paid no mind to the noise, and then soon it was quiet and Steve was waiting for the calm before the storm. He didn't register the words being yelled, but he was aware of the door opening roughly and someone outside watching him. He bowed his head like he knew Brock liked, and let his thighs fall open in submission to Brock. Brock didn't do anything however, and Steve began to shake. He knew he shouldn't speak, but he couldn't help himself but want to ask. At least if he asked then maybe he would just get this whole thing over with. 

"I-I'm sor-ry, did I do-o something wron-ng?" Steve whispered in a small voice. 

There was a choking noise, and Steve flinched as he realized nothing was going to happen. And then, there was more yelling. 

"Bucky!" the man at the door yelled, and Steve knew it wasn't Brock at the door and someone else. Someone he didn't know, they weren't a part of Pierce's gang. Steve clenched his legs shut and turned on his side and trembled into himself and tried to pretend that if he made himself small enough, then maybe they would forget he was here and Brock could just snatch him up again. 

It wasn't like he was in love with Brock anymore, he couldn't stand him anymore. He was dependent on Brock for his very survival and the entire idea of leaving Brock was scary. He didn't make a sound, being silent wasn't hard to do. He'd learned to keep his crying quiet and be seen rather than heard, so it was easy to even forget that he was a person and that he was really here. It wasn't until he heard a gruff man yelling at the door, that he realized he was still here, alive, and a person. 

"This better be good, Tony, I was in the middle of taking care of-" the older sounding man's voice said. 

Steve shook from head to toe, he didn't know these people. Didn't recognize them. Was Brock playing some new game he wasn't privy on? Should he just play along? Play the victim still? Fight back? Present himself? His head was swimming with confusion. 

He flinched when he felt someone touch his leg, the blindfold completely obscuring his vision and keeping him from gauging the threat there. His muscles went taut on instinct, but his mind told him to relax and forget, and so he did. He went limp under who ever was touching him and drifted off into space. He would just let this happen, let it happen and maybe it would go easier for him. What he wasn't expecting however, was for the hand to stay gentle on his skin and move up his body like he was glass. 

"Jesus Christ," the same man, probably Bucky from what the other man--Tony?--called him.

Steve shook harder, those words were either really good or really really bad. 

"Hey it's okay," Bucky said, tone soft and misleading. 

Steve shied away from his touch, knowing that if this was a game Brock was playing then he would only get into more trouble for not going along with it. Bucky however, just softly touched Steve and moved up to touch the blindfold. Steve stilled and let Bucky take the blindfold off of him, and sharp light flooded into his eyes like it normally did whenever someone took the blindfold off. He clenched his eyes on reflex and then remembered Brock's rule _You_ _ _keep your eyes open when I want to see them, you goddamned dirty slut.__  He opened his eyes wide again and looked down at the ground, blinking fast and willing himself to adjust quicker. 

"Hey, are you alright?" Bucky asked softly, his hand caressing back Steve's sweaty hair. 

Steve looked up now and at Bucky, right into his eyes. Steve was startled to come face to face with stormy grey blue eyes and felt captivated by them, but he remembered his manners and looked away. He looked down at Bucky's nose and nodded once, he hadn't been given permission to speak yet. Bucky was still petting his hair, and Steve was trying not to melt into the touch. He hadn't been softly touched like this in a long long time. He closed his eyes and just concentrated on Bucky's fingers in his hair and then the thought struck him.  _ _What if Brock wants you to let your guard down? He'll be here any second, and then he'll let these men have you for as long as they want.__ His eyes flew open and he started to shake again. 

"Go get Banner," Bucky said under his breath to Tony. 

Tony walked away quickly and then it was just Steve and Bucky. He was trying not to look at Bucky and take in how beautiful this man was to him, Brock always knew his type. The strong silent rugged looking kind, just like this man. He started shaking harder, why hadn't this man made his move yet? What was he waiting for? Didn't he know the rules? 

A smaller male appeared in the doorway, holding a black medical bag and dressed in a sharp starched button up and jeans with wiry framed glasses. When the man in the doorway saw Steve, he swore under his breath and Steve stared pointedly at the ground. It wasn't his fault he wasn't to this man's liking. 

"Hey, doll, it's okay. Bruce is just going to take a look at you, make sure nothin' is wrong," Bucky said while he continued to rub soft circles all over Steve's skin.

He knew what that meant, 'nothing was wrong'. It meant that Brock had hired some shift doctor like Zola to come in and administer drugs to Steve so he was complaisant and willing to go along with whatever fucked up scenario that Brock had cooked up. Steve started to float from his body as the doctor knelt beside him and carefully turned him this way and that to look over him, and Steve let his legs fall open to show that he wasn't going to put up a fight. That is, until he saw Bruce pull out a large needle and bring it close to his skin. 

Steve looked up sharply and started to thrash about and yell, his hoarse voice echoing in the small closet. He was aware he was saying things that would result in punishment and torture while he kicked out, but he didn't care. He didn't want to be drugged anymore, he didn't like the way it felt and made him feel afterwards. He was blithely aware that he kicked someone in the jaw after he heard cursing, and then there was black. He had either passed out or been stuck with something to make him lose consciousness. He was grateful for that, at least he would get a few moments of blacked out silence to himself and wouldn't have to think about what was to come. 

When Steve finally came to a few hours later, he was laying in a soft bed that he vaguely realized wasn't in his own room at the compound. His eyes were heavy and his lids groggy as he looked around the room, the images around him were stark compared to what he remembered taking place earlier. The scenes rushed to him all at once, and he shot up in his bed and looked around. There wasn't anyone here, maybe if he got out now he would be able to slip away unnoticed and back to his cupboard where Brock often left him and hope that he wasn't hurt too much after they found out he slept somewhere other than where he was permitted.  _ _Skanks like you don't deserve luxuries like a bed.__

Steve silently slipped out of the bed and looked down at his body, he was dressed in some slightly larger clothes that didn't fit his body frame and he looked around for his clothes. They were no where to be found, so Steve searched the room for them and started to feel lightheaded. He knew that maybe he was going to make his condition worse, but it was going to be worse if he didn't get out of here now. He walked for the door with silent steps and turned the handle ever so softly, and poked his head out of the door. He slowly stepped out and began to close the door behind him when a cool female voice laced with disinterest and authority sounded behind him. 

"You might not want to leave, the Boss wants to see you when he's done with business," she said. 

Steve spun around, his heartbeat increasing and blood draining from his face. He started to tremble from head to toe, Pierce wanted to see him. He'd seen the angered look in Brock's eye after he had dealt with Pierce, and Steve had no desire to see why Brock looked like that. 

The woman was tall and elegant and dressed in a tight suit with long red hair, and her gaze unsettled Steve. He hadn't ever seen her before, but the look in her eye told him that maybe he should just follow her words and not put up any resistance. He looked down at the ground and was going to answer with a soft 'yes ma'am' if he could manage, when a louder deeper voice came from off to his left. 

"Nat, what's he doing out of bed?" came the man's voice.

Steve turned to look and saw the same man from before--Bucky was it?--striding straight towards him. He averted his gaze immediately to the ground and waited for instructions. The woman, now identified as Natasha, turned and looked at Bucky with ease. She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, and Steve shivered at her bold and blatant lack of disrespect. 

"He left himself. I don't know where he was going to go, but you're here now so why don't you ask him?" she said. 

Bucky rolled his eyes back at her and turned his attention to Steve. He smiled with ease, and something inside Steve wanted to smile back but he didn't dare.  _ _What are you grinning for? No one wants to see that twisted smile of yours.__

"Hey there, Sleeping Beauty," Bucky said to Steve.

Steve bowed his head lower in a sign of respect and submission. 

"How are you feeling today? You gave us a scare last night when we found you back in that closet, kicked Bruce pretty hard in the jaw and me in the ribs." Bucky laughed.

Steve shook and curled in on himself,"I-I'm sorry," he said just above a whisper. 

Bucky looked a little shocked to hear Steve's voice, but then just waved a hand and missed Steve's flinch,"Don't worry about it. It wasn't a pretty situation and we should have handled it better." 

Steve just stayed silent. After a moment of silence, Bucky smiled and held his arm out for Steve,"You must be starving, why don't we go get something to eat and then we can talk." 

Steve felt his stomach clench at the idea of food, but followed Bucky anyway. They didn't talk as Bucky led him around the mansion, instead they just fell into silence with Steve trailing three steps behind Bucky who kept looking over his shoulder to make sure Steve was still there. Eventually, they made it to the dining room where Steve stopped outside where the hall ended at the room started.  _ _Did I say you could come in here? Fucking wait until I tell you to come into a room for once, you piece of shit.__

The dinging room was beautiful. There were large windows on one wall that overlooked into a garden and let in large streams of light when the heavy curtains weren't drawn over them. There were portraits all over the walls of various people or just art in general, and Steve knew they were genuine with just one look. In the center of the room where was a dark oak oval shaped table that stretched down at least two-thirds of the room. There were other people in the room too standing there awaiting command, and a butler waiting at attention. Placed at the table were two settings, one for Bucky and one for an unnamed guest. 

A few seconds later, as Bucky sauntered into the room and sat at the head of the table (a place that Steve learned very quickly was where people in power were allowed to sit, and the underlings were not), food was delivered into the room. Steve felt himself recoil at the smells wafting around the room and try and keep his expression neutral. Brock hated it when Steve asked for more than he was allowed or even dared to help himself before Brock allowed him to. Yet, his stomach growled and gave him away immediately. 

Bucky looked up from the paper he was reading and at Steve. 

"Come here, doll, I won't bite," Bucky said with a grin. 

Steve silently padded into the room and sat beside Bucky to his left on the floor, and waited for whatever command it was that Bucky was going to give him. 

"Are you sure you want to sit down there? You can't see any of the food if you sit down there, it can't be comfortable." Bucky said gently. 

Steve just nodded, but tensed when Bucky huffed and pulled out the chair next to him anyway. 

"Why don't you sit here, baby doll? I can't see you if you're down there." he ordered with sincerity and affection in his tone. 

Steve jerkily got to his feet and planted himself in the chair next to Bucky. He kept his head bowed and his hands in his lap as Bucky served himself and then piled things up on Steve's plate. Steve looked between Bucky and his plate and then finally settled his eyes upon the prongs of his fork and sat there while Bucky ate. 

"Are you hungry? You don't have to wait for me to start, I know you're probably starving." Bucky said as he shifted Steve's plate closer to him.

Steve twitched and lifted his right hand and grabbed the fork on the white linen. It had been a while, how long he wasn't sure he had lost count somewhere around 850 days, since he had used utensils and not just his hands or eating out of a bowl on the floor. The weight felt unsettling in his hand and he felt awkward as he stabbed at the food on the plate and brought it to his mouth carefully. He could feel saliva pooling in his mouth as he placed the fruit on his tongue and closed his mouth. Strawberries. Good god, he had not tasted a fresh strawberry in months. The last time he had one was in the first year dating Brock a few days before their relationship changed for the worse. 

However before he could revel in the memories associated with strawberries, hunger over took him and he started to scarf down the food on the plate until he felt nauseous. He pushed away from the table and felt Bucky watching him. After a few seconds of silence, Bucky wiped his mouth with his napkin and sat back in his chair and looked at Steve with kind eyes.

"So, tell me a little about yourself? Only if you want though, if you don't want to I won't make you," Bucky said and then waited a beat to see if Steve wanted to speak, and when he didn't he just smiled and carried on as if Steve had said something and this conversation were going two ways,"Well, doll, until you want to I'll talk for the both of us, that's fine by me. You probably know by now, but my name's Bucky. Well, my friends and close colleagues call me Bucky, but the rest of Brooklyn knows me as James Barnes."

Steve stiffened slightly. He was sitting at a table with James Barnes.  _ _The__ James Barnes. The James Barnes who just so single handed was able to lower the crime rate in one of the burrows as a favor to his old man's best friend. The same man who was able to jet off to Europe for a drug deal to go down and then come back to the states like nothing happened. The very same man who was caught committing murder and blackmail of a very well known and corrupt senator of New York, and get off free. The same man who lived by the code of righteousness and loyalty. The same man who was slowly but surely taking over all of New York City and pushing out all the other gangs. The only man in New York who had the respect of straight and corrupt cops and all the gangs, save for one. The only man in New York who owned multiple front stores but used only half of them as launderers and the other half were kept to keep the families there from going under and moving to the Bronx or Queens. The same man who ran his own company for years and wound up gathering a whole bunch of cash when he was just twenty-two (Steve's age now) and then quit after he embezzled all of it and distributed even pensions to all of his workers, and became a crime boss. The only one that the New York Times had called a Robin Hood with drugs and murder that no one wanted to touch and respected too much. The only man that Brock would kill him for being seen with. That was the man he was sitting at the table with. 

"As no doubt, you've probably guessed that my business ventures and dealings are less...public and more private affairs. I trust that you know how it goes, based on where we found you," he continued,"Now about that, I don't know if you're aware or not but those were some pretty nasty guys you were hanging out with. But...I'm sure you know that. We had a business deal with them, and they're leader crossed me so I took everything they had. And in that process, we found you. I don't know how you got there, but it wasn't something mutual from the looks of it. Do you have anyone you want me to call to come get you?" 

Steve shook his head. Inside, deep inside, there was a small voice that screamed for Brock but the rest of Steve's body recoiled at the thought of it. 

"That's okay. You can stay here, I'd actually prefer it if you did. Just wanna make sure you're okay. Now, Bruce told me some details about you he was able to find out while you were unconscious. Don't worry, he didn't do anything to you that was unsavory. He's not that kind of guy, and he's partners with some friends of mine. But anyways, he was able to tell me that you need to rest before you can go out and do anything as a free man, so to speak. So for now, you'll stay here and I'll take care of you until you're all better. Okay?" Bucky said as he reached over and brushed some of Steve's hair away from his face.

Steve pulled back from the touch and looked at Bucky with large wide eyes and stiffly nodded. He assumed that he was collateral for Brock's mistakes, a mutual trade no doubt, and that he was going to be what he was to Brock for Bucky. So, he stayed quiet and followed all of Bucky's suggestions but didn't answer him.  _ _I don't want to hear your faggy voice anymore, don't speak unless you're spoken to or else we'll have a repeat of last night.__

So, Steve accepted that Bucky was going to keep him for now. He accepted the fact that he was probably just another hole to fuck or a post to beat when Bucky got angry. He accepted it, because what could he do? He wasn't Steven Grant Rogers anymore, he was just a skinny pale malnourished thing. At least, that was what Brock told him.  _ _You're not even a person anymore, you're just a slut. A whore. My toy. Mine to do with as I want. No one cares about you, because there's no one left who cares about you because Steve Rogers doesn't exist anymore.__

"Alright, doll," he said as he pulled his hand back and resumed his eating,"We'll take it easy for now. There's no rush, I only want what's best for you. Just take it slow. You don't have to talk if you don't want to, but I would like to know your name if that's alright." 

Steve didn't answer. Why did it matter? He was just an object, and objects didn't need names. So, he didn't answer Bucky and just let himself fade away into the background throughout the day. He followed Bucky around the mansion as he went about his work, and he followed the rules that Brock had given him when he had finally learned his place. Don't speak unless spoken to, enter rooms when given permission, don't sit on the furniture, don't be a burden, don't look your superiors in the eye, and so forth. 

When nightfall came, Bucky led Steve to a central part of the house in the back where there was a master bedroom and a smaller bedroom across the hall. He followed Bucky until he stopped outside the smaller room and held the door open for him. Steve peered into the room and then blinked at Bucky. 

"This is your room, mine is just across the hall if you need anything," Bucky said as Steve stepped inside. 

Bucky leaned against the door frame and watched Steve as he fidgeted in the room and looked around. He smiled when Steve turned around to face him with a quizzical look, and then grabbed the door knob and started to close the door.

"Get some rest, I'll be across the hall if you need me. Good night." he said as he started to close the door but left it slightly ajar. 

Steve stared after him. unblinkingly and trembled as he looked around the room. Bucky had said with was his room,  _ _his room__. He was overwhelmed at the thought. 

__Calm down Rogers, calm down. It's just a room. Yeah, yeah. Just a room. There's a bed, and a desk, a closet, and a shower. They're simple things, no need to freak out. It'll be fine. You're fine. Bucky--no James--seems to be okay with you sitting on the furniture so why don't you go and try sitting on it._ _

Steve started to walk towards the bed, but fell short as he took in the thread count. He didn't understand the need for finer things, but Brock did. He remembered once that when he was cleaning Brock's crystal wine glasses he chipped one of them putting it away, and Brock slapped him so hard and told him he wasn't allowed to use cups if he didn't know how to take proper care of things. That was when he started to lose "privileges" like that and when Brock started to take advantage of him.  _ _Don't even think about sitting next to me you cur, you're filthy and bloody. I don't need you ruining my things because you're so clumsy.__

Steve's hand wavered as he touched the sheets. They were softer than average, and the thought make him sick. Maybe he shouldn't sleep there for tonight. He looked around, until his eyes settled on the closet door. He walked over and quietly opened the door and looked inside. It was a walk in, not too narrow but big enough that he could fit inside if he curled in on himself and didn't toss and turn that much. He felt at ease when he sat inside the closet and heard only the blood in his ears rushing and the narrowness was comforting in the way that he knew there was only one entrance and exit. 

He laid down in the closet, sleep finally coming over him from exhaustion. He stared at the closet wall and focused on his breathing until his body was mostly relaxed. He finally was able to close his eyes and block out the noise inside his head and ran down the list of things. 

__Breakfast_ _

__Lunch_ _

__Dinner_ _

__Water_ _

__Clothes_ _

__I expect you to pay me back for all the things I allow you to have. Ungrateful brats need to understand how the world works, don't they darling?_ _

Steve kept a list in his head of all the things he needed to keep track of to pay Bucky back for. He was going to try and pay his debt back as soon as he could, lest he face Bucky's wrath. And only God knows what that man's wrath would be like, for he was twice as powerful as Brock ever was if not more. 

***

Bucky fell in love with Steve on sight. He hadn't meant for it to happen, honestly. He didn't even know his name, but under all the grime and bruising he saw beauty in the thin blond. Usually, when they found the wives of their rival gangs Bucky would have them disposed of (with just cause of course) or give them the option to slink away unscathed. But, Steve, Steve was different. He took Bucky's breath away. He was broken and scared and oh so starved for human contact, and it made his heart clench. 

He wanted to wrap that boy up in his arms and show him what love really was, but he wasn't stupid enough to flood him with these feelings after only eight hours of knowing the man. But, he couldn't help himself. There was a sort of spark underlying in the boy he was harboring, and Bucky wanted to reawaken it. He wanted to nurse Steve back to health and show him the kindness in other people. 

He was sitting at his desk in his office smirking to himself, when Clint barreled into the room looking winded and flushed. Bucky's gaze snapped to Clint and his eyes narrowed, if Clint ran here then there was something that was certainly amiss. 

"Boss," Clint said, winded and tired.

"What?" Bucky snapped. 

Clint pointed back in the direction of Bucky's room and then back at Bucky,"He-he's gone." 

Bucky's eyes narrowed even further,"What do you mean he's gone?" 

"I went to go get him like you asked, but he-he wasn't there in the room. He's just  _ _gone__ ," Clint huffed,"God I ran so far, oh I need to sit down." 

Bucky pushed away from his desk and button his suit up and glared at Clint,"Secure the area, I want him found.  _ _Now__." 

Clint stood at attention and then nodded once and turned on his heal to find Natasha and tell her Bucky's order. Bucky growled to himself and cursed. A sort of possessiveness over came him when concerning the blond. He stalked out of the room and down to his own bedroom and slammed the door shut. He paced for a while, until twenty minutes later there was a knock at the door. 

"What?" he barked.

The door opened, and Natasha coolly stepped inside with a neutral expression. 

"Is that anyway to speak to your sister?" she said with mock irritation.

Bucky rolled his eyes. Natasha was by no means his sister biologically, but she might as well be. The two of them had grown up side by side from the moment she was born. Natasha was five years younger than him, but in maturity she might as well have been ten years older than him. 

"What do you want, Nat?" he snapped.

She crossed her arms and pursed her lips,"We found him. He was in the closet of the room you left him in." 

Bucky looked up at her, expression going soft and eyes showing gratitude. 

"Oh, thank god." he said as he ran a hand through his hair. 

Natasha rolled her eyes and stepped out of the doorway for Bucky to go through. He knew he was going to get an earful later, but all he cared about was Steve. He walked into Steve's room, and there perched on the chair with Clint standing behind him was Steve. He rushed into the room and Steve flinched and curled in on himself but kept his face stationary. Bucky stopped where he was and knelt to the floor, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible.

"Hey doll, how are you? Doing alright?" he asked, knowing full well Steve more than likely wouldn't give him an answer.

Steve just looked at him with wide wide eyes, and Bucky's heart broke a little bit. 

"I heard they found you in a closet, hey hey it's okay," Bucky said as Steve started to tremble,"That's alright, this is your room. You can do anything you want in here."

Steve looked at him skeptically and then slowly nodded. Bucky cracked a small smile and placed a hand on Steve's hand softly and noticed that Steve's trembling slowly stopped,"Why don't we have some breakfast, yeah? After that we can see how you feel and you can come to work with me or go back to bed if you want. Whatever you need, you can have it." 

Steve pulled his hand back slowly and then got to his feet and followed Bucky out of the room. He still waited in the hall until Bucky told him to come in and sat on the floor until Bucky told him to sit with him. From there, Steve once again ate the portions that Bucky scooped out onto his plate and then waited in silence. Bucky talked to him on and on just about things, and Bucky saw that there was a little less tension in Steve's shoulders as he talked. It seemed that Steve felt better when all he had to do was sit and listen to someone talk instead of being the center of attention. 

"I have to go to work now, why don't you get some rest? I'll be by later to check on you and maybe we can walk through the gardens if you're not too tired?" Bucky said as he stood and straightened his clothes.

Steve nodded and followed Bucky out of the room and then broke off and quietly went to his own room. Bucky watched him go, and then broke off to go out the front door and to his car where he would be able to personally go to his meetings. He was used to wheeling and dealing with other people and making plans and picking up payments, but his heart wasn't in it today. He was thinking more of Steve and what the blond was doing at home in his room. Was he sleeping? Did he have lunch? Did he explore the house? 

The day passed in a long agonizing blur, and by the time he got home it was evening and was too dark out to actually enjoy the gardens. He hoped that Steve wouldn't be too disappointed that he had to break his promise. He strolled into the dinning room to find the table set already, and his frustration from work fading away. He turned away from the dinning room and walked into the back of the house where Steve would be waiting for him. 

He walked down the twisting corridors until he was at Steve's closed bedroom door. He rapped on the wood softly before he walked into the room and looked around. The room looked untouched, the sheets still made up and everything in its place as though no one lived here. He frowned and then stepped into the room and checked the closet only to find that it was empty yet again. It wasn't until he was fully panicking and whirling around with a fierce look in his eyes, that the bathroom door opened and Steve stepped out.

He was a sight to see in the way of both looking broken and appealing all at once. Bucky's eyes raked over Steve all at once before he looked off and cleared his throat with embarrassment. Steve was a skinny thing, that much he had taken in the first time he saw him, but he was too skinny. From what Bruce told him, Steve had been malnourished for some time and before that lacked the proper vitamins he needed growing up and going through puberty. When Steve was standing up and placing his weight on his rickety bones, he looked as though he might topple over. His bones were defined through his skin, but not so much that he looked like he was in danger of dying any time soon. But, it wasn't the obvious look of starvation that made Bucky's blood boil. It was the large purple and brown bruises littering Steve's pale skin, and the dainty but thick scars all over that made him so upset. It was the look in his empty blue eyes that almost always held fear and apprehension that made his heart clench, and it was the way that Steve was always trembling and waiting for something horrible to happen that made him lose all composure.

"Sorry, I didn't know you were in the bathroom," he said as he cleared his throat again and blushed even harder,"Why...why don't you get dressed and then we can go to dinner, okay?"

Steve stood apart from Bucky and watched him as he left the room, and once Bucky was alone in the hall he cursed himself for just barging into Steve's room unannounced and unwanted. The minutes ticked by and then finally, Steve's bedroom door opened softly and he stepped out. Bucky smiled at him, and they continued on their way to the dinning room.

From there, the days progressed mostly like that with Bucky talking away about himself and Steve listening quietly. The days developed into weeks, and some days Bucky was too enveloped with work to have meals with Steve and on those days Bucky would catch glimpses of Steve sitting in his own room just staring at the walls. Sometimes Bucky would come in and talk to Steve, and the glazed look would dance out of his eyes and be replaced with a reserved kind of happiness but then it would flit away and be replaced with apprehension. But slowly and surely, Steve was coming around to him.

Sometimes the blond would follow him about the day and hesitate on leaving him at times and looked as though he wanted to say something, but most of the time he was still just quiet and guarded. But it still made Bucky just as happy to see at least some shred of happiness in the boy's eyes. But still, it unnerved him that Steve felt the need to hide his emotions. They had been "living" together for about a month so far, and Bucky wanted to be able to find out what made him tick. But before he could do that, he had to handle some matters abroad first.

There was a business venture that was going south in Europe with one of their suppliers who thought that maybe it was a good idea to split off and exclude Bucky from their deal and go off on their own. This, wouldn't stand. So, he was going to have to go overseas for about a week to  _ _oversee__ the project and make sure that no one decided to  _ _step out of line__. However, that meant leaving Steve all by himself at the house doing god knows what. He would take the boy with him if he thought it would be safe, but due to his fragile nature at the moment he thought it best to leave him home. 

Over dinner one night, he stopped eating and looked at Steve with kind eyes and told him of his plans for next week,"I have to go to Italy next week for a while. I'll be back as soon as I can, but I'm not sure how long it will take." 

To this, Steve put his fork down with a clatter and stared at Bucky with a worried look. Bucky reached out and brushed some of Steve's hair away from his face and ruffled it. 

"Don't worry, doll, I won't forget about you," he said with a smile.

Steve leaned into his touch and his eyes fluttered as he tried not to show his pleasure. Over the few weeks, Steve had gotten more and more comfortable with Bucky touching him softly like this even though he was still jumpy most of the time. But, it only ever extended to Bucky touching his hair or his hands softly and lightly to show he meant no harm and nothing further. 

From that announcement and for the remainder of the week, Steve stuck close to Bucky. He followed him even more around the house and walked him to the door of the mansion and even lingered outside of Bucky's door when it was time to sleep. Sometimes he looked like he wanted to climb into bed with Bucky, but other times when Bucky would stop and turn to ask him Steve would get flustered and run to his room. Bucky was going to miss him.

The morning of Bucky's trip, he dressed smartly and had the aura of 'do not fuck with me' when Steve scrambled out of his bedroom to see Bucky off. His eyes were still glazed like he was trying to sleep but failed to do so and his clothes were wrinkled and hanging loosely from his body as he rounded the corner and tripped over himself. He landed with a thud but carefully picked himself up and ignored the wince at the landing on the floor, and shakily walked over to Bucky while wringing his hands.

"Whoa there, are you alright?" Bucky said with a small laugh. 

Steve nodded forcefully and then stepped a little closer to Bucky. 

"Alright, if you say so. I'm glad you came to see me off," he said while smiling and pushing Steve's hair behind his hear,"I'll be back, doll. Try and do something you like to do while I'm gone."

Bucky ruffled his hair once more and then turned to leave when Steve's hand shot out and grabbed as his jacket sleeve. Bucky turned to look at him. eyebrow raising in the process as he turned. 

"Don't worry doll, I'll be back as soon as I can," he said softly. 

Steve's eyes looked up and into Bucky's for the first time, and while it was only a few seconds long it felt like a life time to Bucky. Steve looked down after that and let his hand fall away from Bucky's jacket sleeve. 

"My-my name is St-Steve," he whispered just barely audible. 

Bucky looked at Steve with shocked eyes that soon melted away into a tender look. He stepped forward and kissed the top of Steve's head and let his hand fall to his shoulder.

"Thank you, Steve. I'll be back home in no time." 

He pulled away and took in the sight of Steve one last time, and then headed out of the door and to his waiting car. 

***

__Why did you do that? Why? Did he ask for your name? No! No he didn't! He doesn't want to know, he doesn't care!_ _

Steve paced his bedroom for the one hundredth time that day and mentally cursed himself for the words he said to Bucky before he left. He hadn't meant to seem so eager to see Bucky off and just follow him so immediately and trip over himself and then speak to him unprompted. He had only meant to see Bucky off with a small wave maybe, but then he'd overslept and made it just in time to see the crime boss heading off to Italy. 

As of now, he was dreading Bucky's return. He had thoroughly embarrassed himself in front of the man that he was developing affections for, and there was nothing he could do to make up for that first impression. 

"Steve," came the female's voice--no Natasha. 

Steve jumped out of his skin and instinctively hid off to the side of the room as she came in. He peeked out from behind the bureau and saw her patiently watching and waiting for him.

He knew what she was here for. She was supposed to be here to keep an eye on him, make sure he didn't do anything that he wasn't supposed to or damage any of Bucky's property. Brock had done that, left him with one of the more sadistic henchmen--Grant--when he went away to Rome for business and that man had watched him like a hawk. He was used to having all of his movements tracked and being watched, it had become second nature to him.

"Hey there," she said in a more soft tone that did not fit her image,"Bucky has asked me to keep an eye on you while he's away, make sure you're comfortable and adjusting without him here. I'm also supposed to make sure you're enjoying yourself doing...well whatever it is you want to do."

He eyed her warily and then started to wring his hands. His fingers itched to hold charcoal pencils. He could practically feel the way that the wood felt in his right hand and the pressure against his middle finger when he was sketching. He could hear the scratching of the lead against the paper and see the lines drawing themselves out. He hadn't drawn in a long time, or even dared to. After he had returned back from art school one day, the week after his first beating from Brock, he had come home to see a seething Brock in the kitchen holding a bottle of beer and three others littered around the room.  _ _Your professor called me today. Said that you looked like you'd been roughed up by someone. Asked me if I did it. Is that what you told him? Did you tell him I beat you, you shit?__ To that, Steve had simply denied it because he knew Brock was sorry for hurting him and that if he told anyone, there would be worse in store than a few bruised ribs. But, such words did not sate Brock. He broke Steve's right hand and left him writhing on the living room floor.  _ _Goddamned bitch, now you won't be able to go back and spread those lies. What good are you to that school if you've done and gone and broke your hand? Were a lousy artist anyway.__

Steve hadn't touched pencils or paint since then, and wouldn't even dare to. He knew that if Bucky found out he liked to paint or draw that he might let him, but that didn't mean he'd keep letting him. It was better to lie than to hope. 

"So, what do you want to do today? Old boss man says we have to do something today. He doesn't want you staring at walls again," she said with a knowing look.

Steve flinched. Bucky didn't like him staring at walls? That was his go to when Bucky didn't want him around, it kept his mind occupied to try and make out patterns in the plaster and kept him out of the way. When he was staring off into space he could pretend he was a piece of furniture and that his life wasn't swirling and tumbling away from him. If Bucky didn't like him staring at walls, then what was he supposed to do? He didn't do much with Brock anymore, and he couldn't remember what he did before that. 

"Okay," Natasha said as he sat down on his bed softly,"Well, we can go out into the gardens, or watch some TV, or play checkers. I don't really know what you want to do, I don't care either way what we do.

Steve just blinked at her. When he was younger, he and his mother would spend hours in the garden in the back of their tiny house. His mom would talk to him about the importance of plants and how to keep them healthy and happy, and Steve just six years old would run around the backyard with her and yell or blow bubbles and pretend he was a superhero or a prince. It was his sanctuary. In his foster home he was always in charge of yard work because it calmed him and gave him a task to do, and at the orphanage he was allowed to look after the younger children and help them with growing their own beans in Styrofoam cups. With Brock, he'd been allowed to keep his house plants until Brock told him they kept getting the carpet dirty and took up too much space. The memory of plants hadn't yet been tainted, but he wasn't sure he wanted to open himself up to the memories associated with them anymore. 

As for the other activities, he didn't mind them much. TV was mindless and he just had to sit there and pretend like he was watching the show, that's what he usually did when Brock would let him sit on the couch with him. And checkers was easy, he always won that but stopped playing when Brock burned their set because he got angry because he lost. From then on, Steve let him win any games, especially checkers when they finally got a new set. So really, both activities were fine. He could play checkers with Natasha and let her win and not be bothered by it anymore, he was fine with it. 

"Yes, no? Gonna need at least a one word answer from you Steve." she prompted.

He opened his mouth, and out came his rickety voice. He didn't speak much.  _ _The sound of your voice gets on my nerves, will you shut the fuck up for once. I don't care about Monet paintings or the technique he used, just shut the fuck up.__

He winced at the sound of his voice,"Not...not the gardens." 

Natasha watched him carefully,"Okay. Well, we can watch TV or play checkers. I'm guessing that those words are all I'm going to get from you today?" 

Steve just stared at his feet.

"That's alright. Come on kid, let's go." she said as she sprung up and walked out of the room. 

Steve followed her softly and dared not to look around. He felt like this woman was already dangerous on her own and he didn't need to step on her toes anymore than he figured he had. He hovered outside the doorway to Bucky's living room and waited until she said it was alright for him to enter. From there, he stepped in after she gave him permission and sat on the floor out of her way. 

He heard her sigh, and then the flat screen on the wall came to life. The noise of people talking filled the room, and Steve felt himself slip away and to a different time. He stared at the screen, and soon the people just became colors and shapes moving across the screen. He heard the noises and registered the movement but didn't react to anything on the screen. He wasn't sure how long he sat like that, but after a while he was shocked back into his body by the realization that Natasha was speaking to him.

"Steve?" she said again as though she had been saying his name for a while now,"Hey there buddy, why don't you pick something to watch for now." 

He looked at her incredulously and held the remote in his hand, the weight awkward and heavy. He looked from her to the remote and then swallowed as he pressed the guide button. There wasn't much that he watched on TV when he was allowed to, but there were a few channels he did like to switch between. He keyed in two of the channels only to find that they were Paid Program and then with a shaky hand and growing anxiety he clicked in another channel. But, the show he was looking for wasn't there anymore. He felt a sweat break out on his back and nerves crawl into his stomach. If he didn't find something to watch and follow Natasha's order, he had a suspicion she would grow irritated. So without further delay he selected the channel he was on and handed her back the remote, not even registering what he had put on the screen. After she took it from him with one raised eyebrow, he promptly looked back at the screen and tried to look interested.

"Home shopping network? Alright, if that's what you want." she said while she stretched out on the couch.

Truth be told, he hated the home shopping network. He thought it was boring and over price for what the quality of the product was. He just didn't want her to be upset with him. So, they stayed like this in uncomfortable silence listening to the home shopping network and eventually Steve heard soft snoring from Natasha. He knew she had fallen asleep a while ago and had not dared to move a muscle since. But soon enough, she jerked awake and yawned and looked at him.

"Still want to watch this?" she asked as she checked her watch.

Steve didn't answer, still lost in his own head and glazed eyes watching the screen. Soon enough however, she realized this and turned the TV off. It took a few seconds for him to realize, and when he did he blinked a few times and then looked her her with a worried look.

"It's lunch, we should go eat," she said neutrally.

Steve stood up after her and they walked to the kitchen where Natasha made them both sandwiches and Steve tried to look as grateful as possible when she handed it to him. They ate in silence, and Steve got the feeling that she didn't like to talk as much as Bucky did when they were together. He was fine with that. As long as he wasn't the one who had to make conversation, then he was fine with it.

When they finished, Steve sat still and waited for her to suggest what they should do next.

"Let's play a game, you look like the kind of man who likes to play games," she stated as she dragged him back to the living room.

Steve sat down on the floor again, and this time Natasha sat with him. She pulled out a few games that she had gotten from somewhere else in the room, and then finally settled on cards. She asked him what kind of game he wanted to play, and still he didn't answer. She decided for them and settled on poker. Steve was good at poker, incredibly good. When he was in the group home, there was this kid Wade who taught him how to play. They had had a blast together, Wade's antics getting Steve up to no good and the two of them would run positively wild together and of course get reprimanded for the more daring pranks they pulled. But poker was always good with Wade. He taught him the rules and how to keep his face neutral and devoid of emotion, and ironically enough it helped them both later when they were shifted to different homes and subject to more abuse. He had good memories with poker up until playing with Brock one night late.  _ _He's cheating, I know he's cheating. You can't be this good, what are you hoarding cards?__

They played for a while, Steve keeping his face passive but letting Natasha pick up on his tell easily. Wade would of have been offended had he found out that Steve was intentionally flopping his hands. He'd taught him better than that. But Steve was determined to keep Natasha happy, so he let her win. He let her win the first three games, and by then he had figured out her tell despite how hard to read she was, and he still let her win. He even let her win when she started to try and flop her own hands and give him the win. There was a time once long ago where he would have taken her up on the silent offer to win, but not any longer.

However, soon she grew bored and they moved on. They played mancala, checkers, scrabble, and a few others until dinner time. The rest of the days progressed like this until the fourth when Natasha got frustrated with him.

She dropped her hand on the table and reached across the table and snatched Steve's cards from him. He nervously let her take them and look through them, and then down at the table.

"A flush?" she said with an edge to her voice.

Steve just bowed his head lower.

"Damn, Steve. You're better at cards than I gave you credit for. But if you had this, and I know you know the rules, then why were you acting like you had a shit hand?"

Steve didn't answer. Natasha sighed, and then got up from the small coffee table they were sitting at and cleaned up all the other games.

"Why don't we go outside. It'll do you some good to get some fresh air." she said decidedly.

Steve almost protested, but when he looked up and her always carefully bland expression a little pinched he dropped the argument. He just bowed his head and followed her out into the back garden. Where upon inspection, he realized was not just a garden. It seemed as though the mansion that Steve had been staying in had its own lot and was somewhat out of the way of the city and that the garden was really just an ever expanding field. 

Steve's breath was taken away when he took in the sheer beauty of it all, and he felt his hands tremble as he registered the different plants outside. There were snap dragons, milkweed, peonies, roses, lilies (both traditional and calla lily), honeysuckles, lilacs, daisies, and many many others. There were twisting vines all up and down the sides of the deck and the back wall of the house. With these vines were intertwined the honeysuckles and touching there were hummingbirds that flitted and fluttered about. Steve stepped out slightly and felt his feet warm under the sunbathed stone of the terrace. On the terrace there was a quaint white metal set of lawn ornament chairs and table, and from there was a winding stone path at the bottom of the stairs that led down into the heart of the backyard. There was a round pond in the center with lily pads and fish swimming inside of it from what Steve could see. From around the circular pond, there were three paths that led off into different directions to more secretive areas of the garden. One path led off to a maze of hedges that were carefully shaped and trimmed, while another led off to a more flowered section of the garden where there was a tube like creation with flowers and vines growing every which way to create a tunnel one could stroll through and lose themselves in. However, it was the third path that struck curiosity and a sense of coming home into his chest. The path led off into a forest that shined bright but looked mysterious and harmful, but Steve knew better than that. He knew that the touch of wind an rustles of trees were friendly and held affection in them, they were a sanctuary. He and his father, even with his deteriorating health, would often stroll together with Steve perched high on his father's shoulder and pretending that he and his father were a prince and king of an unseen world with hidden treasures. 

He scrubbed a hand over his eyes quickly, musn't show weakness.  _ _What are you getting all depressed over? You think you have it hard, I'll show you just how hard things can get.__ He placed a small hand on the banister of the deck and looked out and closed his eyes. If he pretended hard enough, he could hear his mother talking to him and see the two of them holding each other with such happiness. He opened his eyes again and the illusion was gone, but Steve felt lighter than he had in the past few weeks. 

"You can walk around if you want, but be back before dark." Natasha said as he came up beside him. 

Steve looked at her skeptically and then slowly took one more step away and down the stairs to the pathway. He cast her another look, and she just gave him a soft smile. Steve turned back and away from her and walked a little bit faster down the stairs until he was level with the scenery. He walked ahead first, stopping by the pond and just peering in. He had no desire just yet to go out of Natasha's line of sight, and so he stayed there looking at the fish and smiling to himself until the sun started to set. He turned on his heal and ran back up the stairs to Natasha, winding himself in the process, and trying to hide his contended smile. 

Dinner passed with ease, and he seemed to be floating on cloud nine as they sat in silence. He soon went to bed after and paced in his bedroom looking around and out at all of the things. He was tempted to rest his head on the bed for just a split second, but soon thought better of it and went into the bathroom to take a shower. He stepped inside the bathroom and came face to face with his reflection in the mirror. He was grinning from ear to ear, his teeth showing completely.  _ _Don't look so happy, I'll knock that grin off your face the second we get home if you don't quit it.__ He let his smile falter some, and then he took himself in as he shed his clothes and set the temperature for his shower. He set it on the coldest setting, Brock always made him take cold showers to keep water expenses and heating expenses down. He went back to the mirror and finished peeling his clothes off. 

His body had filled out some more, it was gaining more weight lately but his bones were still visible. The bruises on his ribs had faded and now were a dull yellowing color, and the scars on his back didn't look as pink and discolored and faded away to more of a whitish color like the rest of his skin. His good mood slipped away some as he realized how hideous he must look to a man like Bucky. 

Bucky was gorgeous. His skin was tanned and his body was filled out in all the right places with muscle, he exuded confidence and authority. He was strong, and while his eyes were hard they were also full of so much feeling. Steve got that much when he looked him in the eye for the first time. He hadn't meant to meet his gaze, but he did. He did and he didn't regret it, but he knew he shouldn't have done it. He just had to. He felt his heart race when Bucky kissed the top of his head, and he wanted nothing more than to feel those lips again. He wanted to feel them on his own lips, but as he looked up into the mirror he abandoned all hope. His body was sickly, why would Bucky want him? Brock didn't anymore after Steve got sick too many times in a row.  _ _Can't even fuck you properly without you wheezing, useless piece of trash.__

Steve turned away from the mirror and got in the shower, the cold onslaught of water hitting his skin and drowning out all feeling. He was used to the cold. The cold was all he'd had since parents died, and it was his friend when Brock left him to rot in undesirable places. 

He showered quickly, letting himself get clean in all the right places and shave off the hairs in less desirable places.  _ _Can't stand all that hair, makes me feel dirty. Maybe if you shaved it some, I could pretend I'm fucking something worth while instead of a broken twink.__ He slipped out of the shower and back into the room he was staying in for now. He dried himself off and slipped back into the clothes he was wearing and then walked to his closet and curled up, the AC cooling his still dripping hair and forcing him to shiver throughout the night. 

When he woke up two mornings later, his nose was clogged and his eyes felt heavy. But, he was determined to keep it under control and out of the way. He went out into the gardens where he and Natasha usually stayed, and he explored. Around lunch time he felt his lungs growing hard and coughs erupting from him unbidden. He had to stop walking and clutch his chest and calm down before he started up again to walk back to the house for lunch. By the time he got there, he felt overheated and tired and sat on the deck for the rest of the evening. After dinner, immediately he retired to his bedroom and promptly fell asleep. 

The next morning, he knew he was running a fever. He could barely open his eyes without feeling as though his head was reeling, and when he stood he felt himself feel sick and have to sit down again. When Natasha came into his room, he told her he needed to rest for a little while longer and did not come out of his room for the entire day. He locked the closet door and slept for most of the day, and woke to the sound of the lock being picked. 

He groggily opened his eyes and shied away from the door and groaned as he hid his face in the plaster. He wasn't aware of the voice speaking to him, but he was aware of the hands trying to touch him. He pawed at them softly and tried to resist their pulls on his clothes, but soon gave up as he felt the hands tug a little harder. He went limp and let himself be pulled out of the closet and against the firm chest of someone unknown. He pressed himself against their chest and tried not to rely too much on their strength, but he was failing and couldn't help himself. 

"Hey, doll, hey Steve. I'm home, it's alright, I'll take care of you," Bucky said. 

Steve looked up at Bucky and felt his body relax as he started to blink and lose his consciousness. 

***

Bucky had come home expecting to find his Steve (he'd begun to think of him as his while on the trip) inside the closet and running a very high grade fever. From there, he had immediately called Bruce over to the mansion and deposited Steve in his own bed. Bruce had come and gone and given his tests and concluded that Steve did indeed have a very high grade fever from exposure, but neither of them knew from where it came. 

"He's going to need to be warmed up some how, god knows how long he's been freezing like that. He's cold all over, and his recovery won't be easy. It seems as though he already has a weak immune system, but that combined with whatever his previous captors did to him hasn't done him any favors. He's going to need to stay in bed, and when I say bed I mean in an actual bed, for a few days. Administer him his antibiotics and make sure he eats enough, he's not allowed to throw any of it up unless he truly needs to." Bruce had said before he left. 

Bucky walked back to his bedroom to see Steve shivering in his bed and tossing and turning restlessly. Bucky quickly shed his clothes and pressed on a pair of sweatpants and then climbed into bed. He pulled Steve closer to him, the smaller male going a little limp at the action, and wrapped his arms around him to share body heat. He rubbed the sides of Steve's arms and legs and then squeezed him tighter and closer.

"I've gotcha Steve, I've gotcha. Won't let anything happen to you, you'll be better in no time." he whispered as he cradled Steve in his arms.

The unconscious Steve in his arms relaxed some and seemed to snooze a little more sedate. Bucky held him close to his body all night and soothed him when he started to shake or whimper all night. He just whispered endearments to Steve soft and low and nuzzled against him if he needed it all the way until dawn. 

When Bucky woke up, he felt Steve press closer to him and his fevered breath flow across his chest. He opened his eyes and smiled down at Steve, and pet his hair. He caressed Steve for a few short moments until he glanced at the clock and saw that it was time for Steve to take the first installment of his medication. He gently shook the blond from his fever induced dreams, and whispered softly to him until his baby blues blinked open. 

"Hey there, I'm sorry Stevie but you gotta wake up and your your medication. Then you can go back to sleep." Bucky whispered as he ran his thumb in little circles across Steve's cheek bones.

Steve's eyes were still glazed and hollow looking, but he nodded nonetheless and then moved closer to Bucky. He wasn't full conscious or aware of his actions just yet, that much was evident to Bucky, but a part of him knew that he could trust Bucky. He started to close his eyes again and nestle into sleep, but Bucky had to shake him awake again.

"Not yet, doll. Just take this and then you can sleep as long as you want." he said as he handed Steve his pills.

Steve grimaced at them but put them in his mouth and swallowed and then looked at Bucky. Bucky smiled down at him and kissed his forehead before he tucked him in close under the covers. He shifted to get out of bed and start his day at work from home, but Steve whimpered. 

"Don't go," Steve whispered as he clutched onto Bucky's wrist.

Bucky stopped his motion and then crawled back in with Steve,"Okay, okay, Steve." 

Steve settled down against him and rested his head against Bucky's firm chest. Bucky carded his fingers through Steve's sweaty hair and just let him sleep for as long as he needed until it was lunch time. He woke Steve up again, and this time the blond groaned and nuzzled further into his skin. 

Bucky chuckled,"I know, I know, but you have to eat." 

Steve frowned,"He didn't used to, when I was sick. Said I didn't need it." 

Bucky frowned himself, realizing that Steve must have been talking about his previous owner. He just rubbed Steve's arm and ignored the subject.

"Well baby doll, you're with me now and if you wanna get better you need to eat something. I'll feed you if you like?" 

Steve groaned and sat up, he clutched his head as the blood rushed to his head and he felt woozy. Bucky pulled him close to his side and rearranged the pillows around them to where Steve was propped up against him. He pulled the small lap table that one of his staff brought in with their lunch, and placed it in his own lap. He brought the broth close to Steve and blew on the soup as he fed the spoon into Steve's mouth. For a while, Steve was content with this, that is until Bucky kept doing it. 

A small little indent formed between his eyebrows, and he started to begrudgingly swallow the salty broth down. Bucky repressed a smile, thinking the somewhat annoyed and hostile expression was attractive. After enough of this, Steve snapped and grabbed the spoon from Bucky.

"I can do it myself, not made of glass," he mumbled.

He swayed softly and Bucky let a snort of a laugh loose from his nose. Steve just furrowed his brow and started to feed himself. Bucky watched him carefully with a loving smirk and dabbed at Steve's mouth with a napkin when stray streams would fall from his lips. By the time Steve was done eating, his eyes were riding low and he was breathing hard and rough. Little coughs came from deep in his throat and sniffled from his nose ran on and on. 

"Finish your water and then lie back," Bucky said, not giving Steve much of a choice.

Steve drank his water with no complaints, and then Bucky pushed him back down into the bed and had him take one more dose of his medication. When Steve lay down, sleep was not tugging at his mind but at his body. Bucky watched as his eyes stayed open but the rest of his body relaxed into the mattress and Bucky's touch. Bucky smiled at him, and then turned back to his work on the night stand. He looked over the notes he had for cars to be sent out across the country and of different customers of different venues, and then glanced down at Steve only to find him still staring. 

"What's on your mind, sugar?" he said as he flipped through a few more pages. 

Steve just breathed out, the sound coming out rickety and labored but better than it had been in the past. It took him a few seconds to answer, but when he did it made Bucky stop his work and look at him. 

"You have a nice face, would like to draw it one day." Steve said, oblivious to the words coming out of his mouth.

In the past few hours of this one day, this was the most Bucky had ever heard him say. However, he was dejected over the thought that it had to be under these circumstances and not of his own free will. Bucky would have liked to have had his first conversation be with Steve while he was conscious, not fever induced and foggy. 

"Really now?" he said as he turned fully towards Steve.

Steve nodded, a small glint growing in his eyes,"Used to be really good with charcoal, you would'a liked it. Seem like you appreciate it." 

"Well, if you'd like I could buy you some supplies and you can draw whatever you want." 

The glint faded, and Steve's eyes were nothing but hard blue sky again,"Can't, Brock won't like it. Never liked me drawing much after it started. Broke my hand," he said while holding up his right hand and wiggling his fingers,"told me it was a wasted dream anyway when we got it fixed up. He's right, won't make it anyway. Don't have the talent anymore. Never really did I suppose." 

Steve gave a self depreciating smile and Bucky frowned. 

"I'm sure that's not true. I'm sure you're aces with charcoal." Bucky murmured.

Steve's eyes started to stutter close and just before he was to succumb to sleep, he grumbled out,"Was aces with paint, but that was another life." 

Bucky could only stare at Steve as the blond drifted off to sleep and stayed in his slumber. When he was sure that Steve was asleep and would not be awoken by his voice or movement, he slipped to the edge of the bed and grabbed his cellphone. He dialed the number for Tony Stark, and waited for the genius to pick up.

The phone rang at least three times before Tony picked up, and when he did he sounded breathless and annoyed.

"You better have a good reason for calling," Tony groaned out.

"Oh, I'm sorry, am I interrupting you or something? I would have thought that your job would be more valuable than whoever it is you're doing," Bucky snapped.

There was silence on the other end of the line and then rustling,"Fine, fine, what's up? No," and then with his mouth a little to the side of the phone Bucky heard,"No, Bruce I'll be back in a minute just wait for me." 

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose, the vivid image of Bruce, Pepper, and Tony coming unbidden to the forefront of his thoughts,"Yeah, I need a favor." 

"You got it boss, what's on your mind? Well, you know, besides the twink in your bed. Last I heard, you were--"

Bucky cut him off immediately,"I need you to reach out to our contact the the NYPD, Coulson or something or other, tell him to see what paperwork he can find on a man named Brock that belonged to Hydra's organization." 

"Gotcha, is that all?" Tony said, voice back to being breathy.

"Yeah, yeah, that's all. I'm gonna hang up before I hear anything I don't want to. You better have something for me before the night is up or I'll have your balls." Bucky threatened.

Over the phone, Bucky heard a much more gruff voice come on that was none other than Bruce Banner's,"Way ahead of you there, Barnes," and then the conversation was over, but not before Bucky was scarred for life. 

Bucky flung his phone down on the table and shook out his arms as though he could physically shake away the memory of intruding on Tony's personal sex life. Again. 

He had asked Tony for records on Brock, whom he assumed to be Steve's abuser, so that he could find out as much as possible about him and then stick his head on a spike. He was looking forward to that day more than he should have, but he would be damned if someone tried to hurt someone he cared about. And in that case, that was Steve; and no one would ever hurt Steve ever again if he had anything to say about it.

***

Steve woke up pressed up against something solid and warm. Something breathing. Someone else. His head felt much better, and his breathing was stable, overall he felt less foggy and run down. His fever was broken, but that didn't explain the reason why he was shoved up against someone else. His first thought was to Brock, had he fallen asleep in his bed again? But no, Brock was gone, and now he belonged to James. But why, for the love of god, was he pressed up against someone like his life depended on it?

Steve carefully peeled himself away from the body plastered against him, and had to do a double take as he came face to face with no one other than Bucky. He felt his blood run cold. He carefully started to shift out of the bed, nearly there when all of a sudden an arm snaked around his waist and he was yanked back. His heart rate sped up, and tried to stay as stock still as possible. Maybe if he didn't protest too much, then maybe his punishment wouldn't be as severe as he thought it was going to be.

"'S not time to get up yet, rest." James' sleep riddled voice whispered to him. 

Steve dared not to breath, maybe James thought he was a prostitute. Maybe that was why he was treating him so gently. Brock often mistook him for one of the girls he rented, and treated him softly like he used to when they first started dating. However, his small flits of hope were often short lived when Brock came to his senses and his hangover came crashing in full parade.  _ _Who the fuck said you were allowed to sleep in my bed, huh? Who said I wanted to wake up pressed up against some other man covered in cum? Get the fuck out.__ He started to tremble. 

Bucky's hand came up and started to rub against his arms, thinking he was cold more than likely. His eyes got impossibly wider, it was going to be hard to explain this one. Bucky more than likely thought he was some girl, some cute lovely girl that was worth his affection. Not some sickly pale boy who was prone to nightmares and deserved the abuse he got. He went rigid at the thought of what James was going to do to him once he had fully woken up. Was he going to shove Steve to the floor and make him beg not to be hurt, only to end up writhing on the floor by his boots? Was he going to be roughly pressed down into the mattress with James' hands around his throat? Was he going to be left outside in the cold with nothing on to experience the elements by himself? Was he going to have to go without meals again for three days? Or was he going to have to turn over and let James fuck him as brutally as he wanted to? 

He swallowed down his sob that threatened to spill over, and let James touch him as he wanted. He didn't dare breathe any deeper than necessary and stared ahead at the wall blankly. 

"Steve, are you alright?" Bucky asked, shifting behind him. 

Oh shit. He knew it was Steve. He knew he knew he knew heknewheknewheknew. Steve felt James shift up to where his body was leaning mostly over his own, and one arm was pressed in front of Steve's face for balance. Steve shut his eyes as James moved closer, and waited for the pain. He waited and waited, but it never came. He slowly pried his eyes open and found James staring down at him. 

"Hey, Steve, it's alright. Do you still feel feverish?" 

Steve shook his head roughly, and then started to shift out of the bed. He started to scoot away from James and get out from under the covers, his body protesting the movement and the retreating from warm soft blankets and pillows. He stood on wobbly legs and then bowed in James' direction, eyes fixed firmly on the floor.

"I'm sorry for inconveniencing you," he whispered. 

He then sprung back up to his normal posture and promptly walked out of the room and closed the door behind him. He walked into his room and then straight into the bathroom, not even bothering to lock the door. He turned the shower on, needing a few moments to himself undisturbed, and slumped against the bathroom floor. He let himself cry quietly on the floor there, his head pressed up against his knees and letting out small soft sobs that echoed loudly in the bathroom. He eventually was able to pry himself up off of the ground and start to strip out of his clothes, when the handle to the door started to turn. 

He was too bleary eyed and concentrated on the fact of getting into the shower, that he didn't notice the door had opened until James was striding in already.

"Steve, I don't know why you thought you needed to apologize, but--" he started.

Steve whirled around and pressed his shirt against his chest as though it could cover up what was living on his skin. He wiped his eyes roughly and stared back at James wordlessly. 

"Steve, baby doll, what's the matter?" James said as he started to walk towards Steve with out stretched arms.

Steve flinched and shied away from him, body recoiling at the thought of James touching him. Not that he didn't want James to touch him, he honest to god did, but he didn't know how he would be touched. Soft and lovingly like in the bed, or harsh and cruel like the mob boss he actually was? Brock often did those things, came up to Steve and carded his fingers through his hair like he was going to kiss him only to harshly pull at the roots and then slam him against the walls somewhere. He didn't want the illusion shattered of what could be with James, not like it would ever happen though.  _ _You're weak and spineless, only bred by that bitch of your mother and drunk of your father to be used as a whore. My door mat. You're nothing more than that.__

James stepped back and put his hands up like he meant no harm. 

"Hey, it's alright. It's okay, babe, I just want to talk with you. I'll stay over here and you can just listen if you want to. Stop me if you want to say anything," James said, purposefully keeping his body language open.

There it was again. Those endearments. Words that made Steve's walls come down faster than he would have liked them to. Brock used to do that. Call him sweet things. Darling. Love. Honey. Sweetie-pie. But the cold came and they were gone. Bitch. Whore. Toy. Creature. Thing. Slut. Twink. Fuck-hole. Steve didn't understand why James kept calling him those sweet names. Those names reserved for a lover, someone worth caring about. Steve wasn't worth caring about, never was. Why didn't James see that? He was just broken and useless, a shell of a person. An object. Expendable. Useless. Dirty. Lowly. 

"I didn't mean to come in unannounced like that. I thought that maybe you were upset, I heard crying and I wanted to make sure you were okay. You left in such a hurry, and I wanted to assure you that you didn't need to apologize to me earlier. I don't know why you did, but you didn't need to. I'm not and was not mad at you or anything of the sort, I just wanted to take care of you. You were so sick, and I promised I would take care of you. Will you let me?" James said, his tone screaming concern. 

Steve wanted to trust him, he really really and truly did. He wanted to sell his soul to James and be tethered to him forever. But, Brock still had him by the throat and he would never be gone. Not really. So to take one step forward and to try and let Brock let go despite the knowledge that one day Brock would take him back somehow, Steve just gave a singular jerky nod. He wouldn't let James take him over completely, just in case. Just in case he was a sheep in wolf's clothing. Just in case he was Brock. Just in case. 

The tension seemed to flow out of James as he smiled at Steve and then came closer, placing a soft hand on his shoulder and drawing him near his chest. Steve's eyes were still wide even as Bucky cradled him against his chest, his steady heart beat sounding clear in Steve's head. It took a few minutes, long drawn out moments where Steve had to walk himself through his steps to calm down. Close his eyes. Breathe in deep. Listen to the angry thoughts. Let them fade. Try harder. Forget. Forget. Forget. Go limp. Breathe. Breathe. It was only after these steps that he felt his mind clear and his body seem lighter while his consciousness floated away. 

James noted his relaxed state, and Steve followed his words and listened to his deep voice. He just listened contentedly, and when James pulled away his heart ached just a little bit. But, it wasn't-- _ _isn't__ \--his place to complain. He watched as James walked to the shower area and stuck his hand in the water, testing the temperature as he should have. Steve took cold showers, he didn't want to be a burden. 

However, James must have thought he was for he turned back to Steve with a frown and a deep set brow. Steve cowered into himself and his shoulder raised as James came back closer to him. He was going to get it now, maybe James would wash him down with the hose and leave him outside to dry. He pressed himself against the counter and shut his eyes as he felt James grip his wrist. 

"I-I'm sorry!" he sobbed.

He found it best when he apologized, Brock was never lenient with him but sometimes he didn't carry all the way through as Steve pleaded with him to stop. But, James wasn't rough when he cupped Steve's face in his hands. 

"Steve, you don't have to apologize." he whispered, placing a kiss on his forehead.

Affection. He kept doing that. Brock used to do that in spades. He used to hold his hand. Used to kiss him softly. Used to pet his hair back. Used to make love to him. Used to do so many other things. So many other sweet things. But, affection fades. The cold comes, the cold is always there. 

"I'm not angry with you, I'm not. But I do want to change some things." 

Steve opened his eyes, looking right up at James with a round tearful gaze. 

"I don't want you taking cold showers anymore. I know that that isn't normal, and I don't think you enjoy it. Just take one at the temperature you like. If you keep taking cold showers like this, then you'll keep getting sick. We can't have that." James said, rubbing a small circle over Steve's cheekbone. 

 _ _Fucking hate it when you get sick, can't have it. There's snot everywhere, and you're of no use to me in or out of bed.__ Steve got the message loud and clear. He had to stay healthy so James could break him back down again. Brock did that often and got off on it, it wasn't unusual for Steve to hear something like this. Steve nodded and looked down at his feet while James still held his face up. Eventually, James let go of his face and pressed a kiss against his forehead and then walked over to the shower and began turn it off and fill the tub with water. He was getting a bath.

He hadn't had a bath in what felt like years. He could vividly remember the last bath he took. It had been a dream, cloud nine. He and Brock christened their new apartment together by having sex on nearly every available surface area, and the bathroom had been one of the best places. Brock had led him in the bathroom so softly and carefully, and sat him down in the tub with different soaps and bath bombs in the water as he lit some candles. He cradled Steve against his chest as he pressed against his back and washed him softly and carefully. He cleaned Steve slowly, placing kisses along the skin everywhere he went and slowly teasing him everywhere until he was just a mess in his arms while Brock whispered to him how much he loved him. It was tender and it was sweet. It was rose tinted. It was fun, it was light. It was Before. 

"I can stay with you if you want, or you can wash by yourself?" James said, his tone hinting at what he would prefer to do.

Steve was used to orders phrased as questions and just shrugged and started to strip in front of James. He'd been asked to strip in front of Brock many times as well as his "guests", by now his embarrassment had faded to a burning shame deep in his chest. But to his surprise, when he was stripped to nothing but his skin, he saw that James was looking anywhere but his more private areas out of respect.  _ _Or disgust__ , came the small voice in his head. 

Steve just hung his head and trudged over to the tub and slipped inside wordlessly, desperately trying not to disturb the calm of the water. He sat still, waiting, just waiting for James to do something, anything. At first, he didn't do anything; but then he finally walked to the cabinet under the sink and rummaged inside. He pulled out a few soaps of varying colors, and a few other oddities Steve was never allowed to use at Brock's. 

He came back to the edge of the tub behind Steve, and slowly dipped the cup he was holding into the bath water and poured it over Steve's head. The warm water was slowly sinking into his bones, and he wanted nothing more than to just relax. He wanted to be pampered, held, loved, cherished. But such days were over. James wouldn't want him like that, all the hopes Steve had were for fantasies alone. 

He flinched when James' fingers started to lather into his hair. He sat there tense and un-moving in the water as James' fingers worked into his scalp. His fingers washed normally along his hair but pressed comfortingly into his scalp, his nails pressing down occasionally in a soft manner like at a salon. He felt himself losing all sentience as James washed his hair with shampoo and just hummed softly to him. He was rinsed once more and expected the action to stop, but James kept going. He went back in for conditioner and Steve felt his heart swell at the feeling. Baths made you a person, James was treating him like a person.

"I'm going to let that set, and then I'll wash your arms and legs," James whispered, not daring to break Steve's calm.

Steve just nodded, and James pulled back and gathered a washcloth in his hands. He poured soap all over the washcloth and then reached for Steve's arm, who went limp in his embrace in a relaxed sort of manner. James kept humming and washing Steve, his hands soft and never scrubbing hard at his skin in the way of wanting to cause abrasions. He washed Steve's upper back and arms, and then his legs as though he were Cinderella trying on the shoe meant for her alone. Each time, James poured the water over Steve's skin and then placed his appendages back inside the water. He came back up behind Steve and then rinsed his hair for a final time before he kissed his forehead again and then retreated back to Steve's side. 

He let Steve soak for a little while, just humming and brushing his fingers against Steve's arm and sometimes down the side of his face. Steve's face was flush from the heat and attention, and he lulled right into James' doting. He was showing James just how touch starved he was, and James was filling that hole immediately with no questions asked. If Steve wasn't careful, he was going to fall in love with this man more than he already was. 

***

The weeks later, Bucky had taken it upon himself to completely spoil Steve rotten. He loved to see the glint in Steve's eye that was hardly ever there, and he loved feeling the way Steve let go and bask in his affections. He had yet to see the blond smile completely yet, but they were working on it. Today, he decided was that day. Today was the day that he was going to make Steve Rogers smile (he had found out his last name on accident, but held it close to his heart like a secret. Thereupon learning his last name, Bucky did as much research as he could on Steve but came up with nothing so far. He was going to keep trying though, and he had a lead through his contact at the NYPD who knew someone at SHIELD Art Academy who was rumored to have known something about Steve). 

He had had this planned since Steve had let it slip that he enjoyed drawing, and he couldn't wait to see the look on his face. He had set up a private room with its own lock in an unused part of the house to be Steve's studio. He had thoroughly cleaned out the expensive little boutique of all of their stock on at least one of everything and then some and spent all week trying to set it up perfectly. Natasha told him he was overly invested and Tony thought it was slightly romantic but then told Bucky he was being a total sugar daddy (it balanced out somehow in their relationship). But, he didn't care either way. He just wanted to make Steve happy. 

As of late, Steve had taken to clinging to Bucky in a good way. He had started to slightly hover in Bucky's doorway at night, and sometimes he would run away and sometimes he would stay and wait until Bucky acknowledged him and asked him what he needed. Sometimes Steve would choke out an answer and sometimes he wouldn't and Bucky would just lead him into his room and close the door and they would sleep together. It was slow going, but it was going. 

Over the course of the weeks, Steve had also begun to speak to Bucky unprovoked. He would stutter and tremble or flinch when he spoke before Bucky did, but he was starting to voice his opinions more and more lately. It was still hard, but it was working on and they were starting to grow closer together. 

"Hey, Stevie, baby doll, come with me for a moment?" Bucky asked as he got up from his desk.

Steve wordlessly followed him but had an up turn to his lips at being addressed by Bucky personally. Bucky chuckled and pulled Steve close to his side with a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Steve's shoulders were tense and he walked a little stiffly, but he didn't protest any or give squeaks as they walked like he used to when Bucky had started doing this. 

Bucky walked Steve through the house and then stopped outside the set of French doors that hid Steve's studio. He grinned at Steve who started to return his smile, but quickly bit his lip and then tried to resume his blank expression. Bucky smirked and then faced Steve towards the doors and then placed his hands on the handles.

"Close your eyes, it's a surprise." Bucky cooed.

Steve immediately followed his request and stayed stock still while Bucky pushed open the doors. Bucky quickly turned on the lights, and then came to stand back beside Steve and then told him to open his eyes. He watched Steve's expression carefully, and what he found wasn't what he was expecting. Steve's reserved expression quickly developed from shock to surprise and then to fear and stayed there. 

Bucky put his hands out in a placating manner and spoke softly,"I wanted to get something nice for you, you told me you used to draw and I thought you might like all this." 

Steve only shook his head and brought his right hand close to his chest and started to back away from Bucky like he was going to strike him. Bucky didn't understand for a few seconds until Steve's eyes started to well up and soft tears rolled down his reddening cheeks.

"N-no, I didn't. I don't wa-w-want this." Steve whimpered out and grabbed his wrist tighter to his chest. 

Bucky's eyes flicked down to Steve's wrist and then Steve followed his gaze and then paled as shook his head. He started to back away faster until he spun around on his heel and ran out of the room. Bucky watched him go and then chased after him after a few seconds passed. He went straight for Steve's bedroom and looked in the closet, but did not see Steve there at all. He frowned and then checked his own bedroom and then began to tear the house apart by looking for Steve. He was a grumbling angry mess when Natasha stepped into his office and crossed her arms.

"Better not let him see you like that, he's already a mess as it is right now." 

Bucky spun around and ran a hand through his hair and then huffed,"Where is he?" 

Natasha examined her fingernails and then blew them off before coolly looking back at him,"Calm down."

Bucky crossed his arms, mimicking her stance in a way that always had Clint whimpering because ' _ _Nat that's not fair, there's only supposed to be one of you. I can't take two!__ '. However, all Natasha did was stand there and stare him down until he started to shift uncomfortably. Nothing could make him twitch or bat an eye and he was as hard an as cruel as he needed to be to be a crime boss, but the only thing that made him question his authority was Natasha who was five years his junior and intimidating as hell. He finally crumpled into an awkward puddle in front of Natasha as she leveled him with a look.

"You done being a piss-a-baby?" she teased.

Bucky scowled but nodded anyways. 

"Good. He's in the rose garden. But I swear to god, Bucky, if you storm over there and demand an answer for his behavior you're only going to scare him away and hurt him more." she said as she pointed a deadly finger at him. 

Bucky nodded, and he felt his frustration fade away and be replaced with sympathy and affection for Steve. He thanked Natasha and then exited into the garden and walked down to the tube like rose tunnel to find Steve pressed up in between a few of them with honeysuckles growing between them. He slowly walked over to Steve and then crouched down and looked at the trembling blond who was delicately gripping a few honey suckles in his hands, their insides drained of sweet nectar and scattered on the floor around him. 

"Didn't know you had a sweet tooth," Bucky said with a smile.

Steve's head snapped up to meet his and his hand on reflex let the flowers fall to the ground like they electrocuted him. He wrapped his arms around his middle and then looked at Bucky expectantly, like he expected Bucky to grab him by the arm and take him back to the house kicking and screaming and do god knows what to him. It made his heart feel heavy in his chest. 

"Hey, I'm sorry," Bucky said, now sitting on the ground with Steve but not touching him. 

Steve looked like he'd been slapped, but said nothing. 

"I shouldn't have sprung something on you like that without asking you first. There are obviously a lot of bad memories associated with what I showed you, and I should have remembered that. You might not remember, but when you were sick you told me that you used to draw and paint. And then, you told me about Brock." 

Steve blanched and curled in closer to his knees,"I'm sorry I burdened you with that." 

Bucky looked up at him with wide eyes and then moved in a little closer,"Oh baby doll, no. You don't have to be sorry for anything. I'm glad you told me, I'm happy you trusted me enough to tell me. Even if it was just in a fit of a fever."

Steve's brow furrowed for just a second and then his face went passive again.

"Steve, I just wanted to give you something you loved to do once, back to you. I don't know what happened between you and that man, but I am determined to make you feel safer with me than you did with him. It will take time, and I know that, and I'm willing to wait as long as it takes. I promise you, I won't leave you or hurt you ever." Bucky whispered, hand now coming to grip Steve's.

Steve's hand was limp in his own, and when he looked up he saw that Steve was staring at their hands and crying softly to himself. Bucky's face lapsed into worry, and then Steve's thin hand clutched his harder with a grip neither of them knew he was capable of.

"You promise?" Steve whispered.

Bucky looked harder at him, and then pulled Steve close to his chest in an embrace and rubbing his back in small circles,"Cross my heart and hope to die. I swear to you Steve, I will never lay a hand on you and I will do everything in my power to make you happy." 

Steve sobbed against his chest and clutched at his clothes harshly, seeming to really take Bucky's words to heart. Bucky meant his promise, he meant it with every fiber of his being and he would keep it for Steve's sake and his own. He only ever wanted what was best for the blond and would stop at nothing to make sure it was secured. Even, if it killed him.

***

James was nice to him, too nice to him. He promised Steve the world and followed through with it. But Steve was still apprehensive, because his promise was just talk. It was always talk. It was talk when Brock apologized to him after beating him and said he'd never do it again. And it was talk when the authorities said they would ensure he wasn't placed somewhere awful like his first group home ever again. And it was all talk when the doctors said his father was going to be alright. Words were just words, and actions were deceiving. 

However, James did do one thing for Steve that he was no expecting. Besides giving him his own art studio, that he hadn't used yet and was afraid to use, he had set Steve up with his own counselor. The man, Sam Wilson (a friend of James' who did undercover work sometimes but was mostly a counselor for abuse victims), did at home visits with Steve once a week. It was hard at first, but Sam was kind and understanding. Steve could tell almost immediately that Sam wasn't going to hurt him or tattle on him to James, although Steve had the suspicion that James already knew some of what they talked about. 

Steve never said much, but when he did it was always short to the point sentences that expressed his gratitude for James. He never called him Bucky during the sessions and never outside of them either, it was polite and Steve wasn't worthy of using such a personal name with a man he felt so much for. Sam asked him why once as to why he only ever praised James during their sessions, and Steve gave him a tight attempt at a smile and told him that he owed everything to James and that he should be grateful for the things he was allowed to have. Sam asked him what it was that James allowed him to do, and Steve told him gladly. 

He told him about how James let him take warm showers, have more than just scraps for dinner, sleep in a bed, look in his eyes, speak without permission to do so, and so forth. Sam had only nodded and then scribbled something down, Steve stopped talking after that for the rest of the day and just looked at his toes. Maybe he shouldn't have said something. Maybe that was the wrong thing to say. That conversation, was last week.

Presently, Steve was sitting in James' office on his couch and loathing himself for what he said and for sitting on James' furniture. He was used to the bed and to the kitchen chair, but couches were a luxury that he was trying to get used to. He was uncomfortable sitting on the couch, but it made Sam uncomfortable to talk to him while he was seated on the floor so he didn't do it despite his unease. He was waiting for Sam to get here, but he was stuck in traffic according to James and due to the rain. 

Steve was staring out the window and out at the grass, when the door to the office opened. He shot to his feet and kept his eyes low on the ground, a habit he was unable to shake no matter how hard Sam was trying to work on it with him. 

"Hey, Steve." Sam said as he walked in and shucked his jacket. 

Steve just stared at the ground still and nodded slightly.

"Why don't you have a seat?" Sam said, voice calm on purpose. 

Steve sat down hard against the couch and tried not to pay too close attention to Sam. He liked Sam. Sam was cool, he was kind and he was nice. He had a feeling that if they met before all of this that maybe they would have been friends. But, Sam was his doctor and added to that why would he want to be friends with a head case like Steve?  _ _The reason why your friends don't call or come to see you anymore is because you're depressing and worthless. You aren't worth their time, why should they care about you?__

"What was that?" Sam asked. 

Steve looked up at him, expression confused and fearful,"I'm sorry?" 

Sam's face was neutrally passive,"You said something under your breath just then, do you need to discuss anything?" 

Steve shook his head and then looked down at his feet. He couldn't be sure if Sam was going to scribble something down on his notepad again and give him that intrusive look. He knew that it was Sam's job to stay impartial, but Steve was exceedingly good at reading facial cues. He knew Sam was hiding something and that he was disappointed. In him or someone else, he didn't know. He decided the best method with Sam was to be quiet and to say positive things, he didn't need to burden this man who more than likely didn't care about him with his own problems. He continued to stare at his feet.

"Hey, Steve, why don't we talk a little bit? Is that alright with you?" Sam asked as he crossed his legs.

Steve still wasn't used to people asking him if he was already with things or if he was, so on default most of the time he just said yes. So, he said yes to Sam.

"I'd like to talk to you about what you said last week about how Bucky allows you to do things that you hadn't been able to do before, can you tell me a little about that?"

Steve froze up and just stared ahead at Sam, his question wasn't really a question. 

He was quiet for a moment and then spoke,"James is very kind. He-he let's me do things that I'm not allowed to do. He's very kind."

Sam nodded,"Why don't you tell me a little bit about what it was like before Bucky, if that's alright." 

Cold floors. Water. Pain. Bruises.  _ _Don't look me in the eye you twat, I don't want to have to lower myself to looking into you're fucking soulless eyes.__ Brock. Sometimes there were other men. But mostly there was pain. Crying. Trembling. Beatings. Hurt. Broken heart. Silence. The dark. Closets. Brock. 

"Steve?" Sam tried again.

Steve looked up at him, an eerie calm washing over his body. He knew the tell tale signs where he would just let go and answer any and all questions, it happened often with Brock when he got Steve under control. 

"I used to be his. He wanted me. But, things changed. It's alright though, I brought it on myself." Steve said, eyes glassy now. 

Sam just watched him.

"I came home when he was conducting business, didn't mean to, but it happened. Then it changed and then I became this, but it's for the better because I'm...easier to handle. He said I used to be hard to handle, it's alright." Steve mumbled. 

"Let's talk about that. Why were you hard to handle?" Sam asked.

Steve knew his answer, it was easy. 

He kept his voice neutral,"I was tough. Wouldn't submit to him all the time in or out of the bedroom. Sometimes I got cheeky or came home when I wasn't supposed to, or didn't follow his rules. I wasn't grateful enough." 

Sam nodded and then scribbled down something in his notebook, a cold sweat broke out across Steve's brow. 

"Why don't you tell me about him some, your abuser." Sam said, a small edge to his voice.

A shiver ran down Steve's spine,"Wh-why?" This was a test.

"I'm just curious as to how this all started." Sam gave a full smile now, wolfish to Steve.

He started to shake, it started in his hands and drifted through his arms so he had to stuff his hands under his legs,"We...we went out. For a while. He asked me out and to live with him, so I did. He loved me. And then, I was his. And then I was theirs. And then I was nothing. I am nothing." 

"Let's try and stay away from absolute phrases like that. I want you to try and work on that, okay? Try using past tense phrases, it can help you with realizing that all of this is behind you now. I'm not telling you to forget, but to move on so you can get better."

Steve's jaw twitched, he felt anger rising in him. It was familiar and uncomfortable and burned through him, it had been his constant friend other than the cold. He felt it his entire life, but had been denied acting on it for as long as he could remember. He could still repress it though, Sam could hurt him if he blew up on him. It would be worse if James found out too, Sam after all was his friend.  _ _Your courtesies extend to my friends. All of your courtesies, now go say hi and be as obedient with them as you are with me.__

He nodded despite himself. 

"Steve, I know this is hard for you to talk about, but talking about what happened to you can often let you reflect on the actions that were done to you and so you can see why they're wrong. But if you don't want to talk, there are other things that you can try. I would however, like to have follow ups with you after this session. I do want to talk some so we can set a goal for you for our next visit, alright?" Sam said with a smile.

Steve felt his alarm bells sound of wildly, but he nodded. 

"Alright. Why don't we start by having you refer to yourself as a person instead of an object or second class citizen. I want you to take the initiative to do things you normal wouldn't do or weren't allowed to do." 

Steve cringed, confusion and anger boiling beneath his skin. 

"No," Steve found himself saying.

Sam's eyebrow twitched, but the rest of his body and face stayed open,"Why not?" 

"He'll hurt me," Steve groused. 

"Who, Bucky?" 

Steve rolled his eyes, something Brock used to neck him for (and not in the stereotypical making out like teenagers, but slap him on the back of his neck), and then fixed Sam with something the Brock used to call his Attitude Eyes. He felt the trembling run through his arms, a sign that he was either going to burst out into rage or tears. At the moment, rage was winning. 

His voice was hard when he spoke again,"Of course, him. He's a mobster, so was Brock. They don't change. All angles, no fluff."

Sam scratched the back of his neck,"Steve, let's calm down some. I don't want this to escalate, sit down."

Steve looked down, not having realized he had stood. But goddamn him if he was going to back down. His fists balled up and his arms went straight and rigid while his shoulder raised and his brow furrowed. He stared daggers at Sam, a spite fire coming back into him that his mother used to scold him for having when he was cross with her, and then felt his voice rise. It was startling, his deep voice coming out of him after so long of silence and soft spoken words. He bellowed low in his throat and by the time that he realized what he was saying, it was just a stream of consciousness and bottled up emotion. This had only ever happened once with Brock, and he made it a sure fire thing that Steve would never back talk again.  _ _If you can't keep your mouth shut, then how about I just fix it for you? Break your jaw maybe? That'll teach you.__

"Do  _ _not__ tell me to calm down! Do not tell me what to do! I don't give a fuck who you think you are, you can hurt me just like he does but I will not pretend it's fine. It's not fine! It's not! I know it's not! He hurt me, he hurt me so much. So badly. Used to say I needed to be kept in line and he kept me that way and I let him! I don't want to go back. Not to the cold, the dark. To the rest of his friends. I won't do it! He hurt me and he-he let his friends rape me whenever they wanted," his eyes grew wide and his mind seemed to wander further away from him,"James will do it too. He'll do it. They always do it. He doesn't care, you don't care. They don't care. I lost them, I lost all of them and they're gone. They're gone and no one cares. I'm defective and broken and-and ruined. No one cares, makes them uncomfortable. You don't care. You have psycho babble all the time, but you don't care. Just scribble in your notebook and tell James why he should get rid of me. He'll do it one day. Bury me under the Brooklyn Bridge like everyone else, an unmarked grave for an unmarked person! I won't let you do it! I refuse! I  _ _refuse__ to let that happen! Don't come near me! Stay away!" 

Sam had gotten up and out of his seat and put a placating hand out for Steve, but slowly retracted it as Steve started screaming just strings of profanity and telling Sam to stay away or else he'd hurt him. His eyes were wild and sharp but glazed over and he was standing beside the desk with a paper weight clutched in his white knuckled hand. He looked as though he were going to throw it at Sam, when the office door opened and an angry James burst into the room. 

Steve's angry eyes immediately scrubbed over Sam once and then back at James and then to the ground and then back at James. Steve's hand dropped the paper weight and he paled as he saw James enter the room with a red face and hand placed inside his jacket where his concealed weapon was. Sam looked back to Steve and saw the blond start shaking his head violently and backing away behind the desk. Sam immediately spun and looked at James, concern etched across his brow. 

"Put the gun away, Bucky," Sam said, voice laced with ice. 

James looked to him, eyes hard and unseeing,"I heard raised voices, what happened?"

Sam placed his hands out again and James puffed up slightly until Sam spoke low,"You need to calm down and face him level headed, he's not going to respond well to violence." 

James' eyes scanned away and to Steve, the tension leaving them and his hands falling from his gun,"See yourself out, I need to take care of this." 

"Bucky I don't think-"

"Get out!" James snapped. 

Sam just shook his head and then left the office, closing the door behind him. James looked back at Steve, his expression soft. Steve on the other hand, just shook his head back and forth rapidly. He started to back away and into the corner while James walked towards him slowly.

"Steve, Stevie I'm not going to hurt you." he cooed.

"No! No! I'm sorry! I won't do it again, please! I promise!" Steve yelled.

James only came closer until he was right in front of Steve who looked up at him with wide wide eyes,"I'm not going to hurt you, Steve. I would never dream of it. I promised you I wouldn't hurt you." 

Steve seemed to believe him for a moment and then started to shake,"You promised?"

James nodded,"I promise. I promise you so hard, baby."

Steve's shaking increased to full on tremors and he threw himself at James and wrapped his skinny arms around James' bulk. He burrowed his face into his chest and started to cry for himself, for James, and for the pain he caused Sam. 

"I-I'm sorry, I hu-hurt Sam-m and you-ou." he sobbed out.

"Oh baby no, don't be sorry. You didn't hurt anyone, you were okay. It's okay. I've got you, I've got you. 'Til the end of the line, I've got you." James hummed as he pet Steve's hair. 

Steve gripped his clothes tighter. He hoped, oh god he hoped that maybe just maybe the cosmos or God or fate or whoever was up there would let him keep James. That much, they owed him. He deserved at least one thing in his life that could remain. At least one. He prayed that James could be that one. 

***

After the incident in the office, Bucky took Steve back to his room and soaked him in the tub and then tucked him into bed beside him tight and warm with one hand placed on Steve's hand and rubbing small circles into his skin. He was watching Steve from the corner of his eye, hoping he wouldn't wake up just yet. Bucky had finally gotten his hands on information about Brock and was going over it now. 

It had taken a little longer than he would have liked, his contact Coulson was unable to gather information as quickly as he would have liked and had to go to the head detective of under cover investigations to enlist his help, a woman named Maria Hill that was also on Bucky's pay role that he didn't contact that often due to the man's crass nature. But nonetheless, Bucky was able to obtain his information finally. 

It was a thick folder with some of the papers marked out largely with black ink spots of censoring. Hill had apologized for the blatant censorship from no doubt another dirty cop on Alexander's pay role, and promised that heads would roll if she found out who it was. But other than those documents, there was plenty of information on Brock and a little--but very very minuscule amount--on Steve. There were reports about Brock's dealings with other gangs, his prison records, juvenile records, the tragedy of his parents, his school transcripts, and his rap sheet. There was a lot of evidence that could have him put away for life, but he never was because of Alexander Pierce. Bucky had done the same for some of his closer friends and he knew that the only way to take care of Brock was to take him out for good. 

Inside Brock's folder were also things about Steve. There were pictures of a healthy skinny Steve walking with his arm looped with Brock's down the street and dressed in hipster style clothes, some information on Steve's habits from the day, a few scraps of school records, and then a business card for a man named James Howlett (whom upon calling asked to call him Logan). Bucky had called him and reserved an appointment to meet with him after his classes when the day were over. He was looking forward to that, for he had a feeling that Logan would know more about Steve and his relationship with Brock. 

Bucky turned out the light and settled down next to Steve, drawing the covers up around both of them and snuggling in closer to Steve. He slept fitfully that night and went over the events of the day in his head until he was exhausted. 

In the morning, he woke up with ease and saw Steve staring at him with teary eyes. He immediately snapped out of his sleep ridden stupor and rubbed Steve's side softly.

"Hey baby, what's wrong? You still upset about yesterday?" he whispered.

Steve nodded and then hid his face in Bucky's pillow, body trembling and knuckles going white as he gripped the sheet. Bucky pulled him flush with his own chest and combed his fingers through his hair. 

"It's alright, it's okay. You didn't do anything wrong. Sam's job is to talk with people about their problems, he's used to the yelling baby. It's alright. I'll understand if you don't want to see him again." 

Steve shook his head,"No...no. I didn't mean to yell at him. I hu-hurt him and he doesn't deserve that. I'm sorry." 

Bucky just shushed and soothed Steve until the blond was a compliant limp thing against his chest,"Okay baby, I'll tell you what, we can call Sam back in a few weeks or whenever you want and then we can talk to him. I'll be there for you if you want me to. We can do whatever you want to do, alright baby?" 

Steve nodded and just stayed in Bucky's arms for as long as possible until he felt like he was being a burden and pushed away from Bucky. 

"Thank you, James. For everything." Steve whispered.

Bucky smiled and kissed the top of Steve's head,"Anything for you, baby doll." 

Bucky watched as Steve repressed a smile and then got out of the bed and wrung his hands softly,"I-I should go...th-thank you." 

Steve turned on his heel and softly left the room with his head bowed and closed the door after himself. Bucky sighed and then got out of bed himself and started to get dressed. He shaved and washed his face and then slicked his hair back with gel before he dressed. He wore his navy blue Armani suit from the Emporio collection that was a two button suit with pressed slacks. He slipped into his oxford shoes and then slapped on his ring with his gang's seal and pressed his aviators into his inside jacket pocket. He stepped out of his bedroom and knocked on the door to Steve's bedroom softly. 

"Stevie, baby, I'm going to head out into the city for a little while are you gonna be okay here?" he called.

Steve's door softly opened, and Steve was standing there with his face flush from a shower and eyes tired from no doubt a sleepless night. Bucky smiled and caressed the side of Steve's face. 

"Get some rest baby, I'll tuck you in. I should be back a little after lunch okay?" Bucky said as he led Steve towards the bed.

Steve got in bed without a single complaint and let Bucky tuck him back in. Bucky pressed a kiss to his forehead and then started to walk away when Steve's hand shot out and grabbed his own tight. 

"You'll come back, right?" Steve asked worriedly. 

Bucky smiled,"I promise, doll. Now go to sleep and if I'm not back when you get up, just do whatever you want and help yourself to whatever in the kitchen." 

Steve nodded and then sat back in the bed as Bucky left his room. He walked out of the manor filled with thoughts of Steve. He wanted to snuggle up with Steve all night and hold him close to him and just be pressed against each other. He'd hold Steve in his arms, and if the skinny blond let him, he'd slowly let his hands travel down south and then spoil his boy any way he wanted. He'd give him all the pleasure in the world just to be able to see that pleasure filled look on his face and come undone in his arms. He'd kiss Steve slowly and deny himself any and all pleasure just for Steve, all for Steve. He's wrap his thick hand around Steve's skinny little length and then just look into his eyes and tell him how loved and valuable he is as he came all over his hand. He knew that he and Steve were no where near intimacy like that, but he hoped that one day in the future he might be able to get close enough to Steve to do that. Maybe, just maybe, one day he could work up to kissing Steve and then let things go from there when he was sure that the younger boy would be open to it. 

He soon arrived at the college far too soon to his liking and stepped out of the car while straightening his clothes and running a hand over his hair to make sure all the strands were in place. He walked into the college, the air of superiority all around him. He found his way down the twisting halls and matching doors until he came to the room with the block letters HOWLETT outside of them. 

He pushed the door open without knocking, a common habit he'd gotten into, and stepped inside the room. A class of thirteen turned and looked at him disinterestedly and then went back to their work as Bucky walked in and took his sunglasses off. He scanned the room when a gruff man behind a desk spoke sharply at him. 

"What do you want?" he snapped.

Bucky turned and looked at him, sizing him up automatically. He was built, that much was clear, and dressed in casual jeans and a tank top. He was older than Bucky by just a little bit, but still retained a youthful aura about him. 

"I'm James Barnes, we spoke on the phone yesterday," Bucky said as he extended his hand to Logan.

Logan stood up and shook his hand roughly and then looked as his class,"Get out, class is over. I have a meeting." 

His class without much complaint gathered their things and began to clean up their supplies. They filed out one by one and said their goodbyes to Logan and soon enough, it was just the two of them standing in the room. 

"So. What did you come here for." it was more of a demand than a question.

Bucky flashed his business man smile and then leaned up against one of the drawing tables,"I was hoping you could tell me a little bit about Brock Rumlow or Steve Rogers." 

A look passed over Logan's face, it was dark and protective,"Look, I told the cops all I know about him. They came up with nothing and I was told to drop the subject, because Steve Rogers doesn't exist." 

"So I've heard. I, however, am not exactly affiliated with the police department," he said as he twisted the ring on his right hand. 

Logan made a noise that sounded like approval and then sat down at his desk, propping his feet up in the meantime. He eyed Bucky for a moment and then spoke.

"How do I know what your intentions are." 

Bucky sat down on one of the stools and arranged himself casually while pulling out a cigarette and looking to Logan to see if it was okay. Logan obliged and they both began to smoke in the room before business started.

"Well, I'm sure you've heard of me and my reputation and if that's anything to go off of you might be able to trust me. I only want what's best for him, but he won't tell me much about his life." 

Logan made a disapproving noise,"No, I suppose he wouldn't."

There was silence before Logan spoke again,"He was always a quiet thing, never said much, but when he did it was always confident. He was talented too. Eventually he started going with this guy, Brock Rumlow, and he seemed happy. We talked some, not that much, about his boyfriend and his life. Said that the man was a goddamned saint, he worshiped him. You could tell the kid was head over heals in love with him, but anyway they moved in together after a short time. Steve seemed happy, until one day he came to class all busted up. He was even quieter and when I asked him if everything was fine, he just lied right to my face. I figured there was some abuse going on what with how he was reacting and how his injuries weren't from just falling down a flight of stairs. So I asked him about it after a while, and then I called the police just to make sure. He didn't come back after that. I saw him once after that at the market, kid didn't even look the same. There was something gone out of him, like the fight just left. He was skinnier, if possible, and attached to the hip of some man whom I assume must have been Brock. 

"I talked to them some, and Steve was glassy and quiet, and there was definitely an uneven atmosphere between them. I called the police once more after that, and then some officers made a home visit to me and told me to leave it alone or else I'd regret it. So I left it alone. Probably shouldn't have, because after I tried to look the kid up to give him his stuff back and maybe talk, there was no record of him. He vanished and no one ever called about him. That's about all I know about Steve and Brock." 

Bucky nodded,"Have you heard from Brock at all since?" 

Logan shrugged,"Nah, he hasn't come around at all. Should I be expecting something?" 

Bucky puffed on his cigarette,"My associates and I may have gotten into a scuffle with him, it would be wise to be on the look out for it. Steve is in my custody at the moment." 

Logan tapped out his cigar,"Thanks for the heads up."

There was another silence until Bucky got up and crushed his cigarette in the ash tray on Logan's desk,"Thank you for your time, I'll be in touch." 

Logan stood up and they shook hands,"Barnes, I will let you know that if I hear anything about this boy getting hurt again I will personally see to it that your life is a living hell. You're not the only one with connections." 

Bucky smiled,"Wouldn't expect anything less." 

Logan nodded curtly once and then let their hands fall apart once more. Bucky was on his way out, when Logan suddenly called out to him one last time.

"While you're here, why don't you get Rogers his stuff back. He had some good work, should finish it." Logan said as he handed Bucky a large black portfolio and a few items shoved inside a satchel. 

Bucky nodded and then thanked Logan once more and then went back to his car to go home. He piled Steve's things into the seat next to him in the back and began to look through them. He looked through the satchel and found Steve's sketchbook and a few personal items that Steve must have left back in the studio for when class was going on. He thumbed through the book and found his heart aching and burning with second hand passion at the drawings inside. There were realistic sketches of people walking, nude figures, landscapes, and more than one drawing of a man that Bucky couldn't help but think was Brock. The drawings of Brock had care and Bucky could tell there had been love and affection between them once, until all of a sudden all of the drawings dried up and there were just angry lines and paint inside and more than a few torn out pages until there was nothing but blank. 

Bucky put the book back into the satchel and then looked through Steve's portfolio and found that the kid truly did have talent beyond belief. He suddenly felt new rage for Brock for breaking Steve's hand and refusing to let him go back; and then he felt love blossoming deep inside his chest for Steve. If possible, he was falling deeper and wanted to protect Steve even more than he had before. He wanted to make Steve happy, and by god he would do anything to ensure that. 

***

Steve woke up groggy and well rested. He felt lighter in his chest and a little more bold after having had Bucky assure him his emotions were valid and that his actions were too. He felt more like a person. He still felt guilt towards Sam, but it wasn't as strong as it had been yesterday. He felt like he was getting better somewhat, and with this new found conviction he got out of bed and with shaky hands reached for the key inside his beside drawer. 

He took the small golden thing and let it rest inside his hand before he made a desperate and hesitant movement to leave his bedroom and go through to the part of the house with the one room that he was afraid to enter. He was aware Natasha was following him, but he didn't mind. She had become a sort of friend to him, and he trusted her and didn't mind that she followed him nearly everywhere. 

He stopped outside the doors to his studio and flipped the key in his hand a few times. He stared back down at the key and bit his lip before he found himself unlocking the doors. He opened one door carefully and looked for the switch on the wall. The light came on with a snap and Steve took in the room with fresher eyes. He looked into the room and at all of its occupants. Deep down inside of him there was a part of him where his chest swelled and his eyes got wide and teary and his breath caught while he felt like his legs were going to give out like a baby deer's and his bowls were going to drop out like the bottom of a soggy crate--cause of death, dysentery. It was the old Steve Rogers resurfacing and taking in the art and the love and the  _ _passion__ that studios held. So much talent and creativity contained in one room just for  _ _creation__. There was nothing like it, the feeling of standing in a room full of paint and charcoal and knowing-- _ _knowing__ this is where he belonged. Deep in every fiber, like the cosmos told him this  _ _this is where you belong, don't turn your back on it.__ Like if he turned his back and walked out of that room with the resolution to never see it or step foot in it again, then he would regret it for his entire life and never find happiness again. That was the love he felt for art back then, that was how he felt when he was alive. 

Steve looked around the room once and looked for eyes, prying eyes that would hurt him or watch him closely. He surveyed the room closely and then dared to do something he never thought he would, lock the door. He locked the door and shoved the gold key deep down inside his pockets and then turned to the room. There were easels stacked against the wall of different sizes, and stacked next to them were white canvases still in their plastic sheeting. He ran his finger tips over their cool exterior and then whipped around. He looked at the different cabinets of different sizes and looked through them. There was a short squaty beige one filled with different types of expensive paper that Steve had dreamed of using. There was drawing paper, water color paper, tracing paper, kraft paper, chip board, mat board, and much much more. He felt at ease as the names recalled to his memory so easily and bounced around in his head softly, telling him  _ _Steve, Steve honey you're home__. 

There was another drawer set that was empty where Steve assumed he could put his works when they were finished. There was a drying rack still unused and lacking rust or paint stains. On a table closer to the large windows were cups filled with paint brushes new from the store with their plastic little aglets over them for protection.  Beside them there was a large wooden drawer filled with oil paints, and then two other drawers filled with acrylic and water color paints of every color. Beyond that there was a wooden table with a paper cutter and another drawer with pencils both colored, charcoal, and graphite. There were even pastels still in their cases and not blurred together with other colors. 

In the center of the room just before that there was a drawing table and then a two glass tables situated right on either side to give him as much as room as he needed. The floor was hardwood, but there weren't any tarps in sight to be laid out on the ground. He went over to the side of the room and found yet another treasure. There was an entire wall decked out with tools for printing hanging on the side and blocks of linoleum under neath the table that held cutting boards all across its surface and paints in the drawers off to the sides along with squeegees and screens. Adjacent to that there was a bookshelf filled with singular black books arranged in height, and as Steve's right shaky hand went out to pull one out he knew what they were. 

His heart beat loudly in his chest and he felt his breath leave him all at once as he heard the familiar crack of the hardback spine of a sketchbook opening. Printed inside already in custom calligraphy done by god know's who, was his name. Steve Rogers. He checked several volumes, Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers. They were all his. All of them. This was his. This room was his. Bucky had given him a piece of his life back. 

Steve clutched the medium sized book close to his chest and grabbed a pencil, then hopped up on the window seat to observe. The window out looked the garden from the second story, and around the windows there was the ivy growing out with flowers. And Steve, Steve felt himself cry. He let a few tears slip down his cheeks and then, something remarkable happened. He touched his pencil to his page and began to sketch. 

It took a full hour for him to be at least half way proud with it, the lines a little shy and shaky as he was unsure of where to place them. But he was proud. He was proud that he had the courage to do at least one thing. Even if it was half way decent and not at all close to what he had been doing. 

He closed the book before he could question himself further and then placed his back on the shelf and placed everything like it had been when he found it. He slowly walked out of the room and then locked it, the secret of who entered the room between him and Natasha but the true secret of what went on behind the door between himself and a black hardback sketchbook. 

Bucky Barnes had given him a piece of his life back, he had given him a piece of who he was and what he needed to be again. 

Steve stepped out of the hallway where his-- _ _his__ \--studio was, and bounded down the stairs with a tight happy gallop. He descended the stairs just in time to see Bucky walk into the house carrying a portfolio and a satchel. Something in his chest tightened as he saw the stressed leather and the beat up black portfolio, they seemed like they were familiar. From a dream. Or a dream of a dream. 

Bucky set the things down beside the door and then turned around and brushed his clothes off. He did a double take when he looked at Steve, and then broke into a soft smile. 

"Were you waitin' for me, baby?" Bucky asked softly.

Steve tried to hide his smile, he really did. He really tried to pretend that Bucky--not James, although he would still openly refer to him as that but internally it was okay to call him Bucky right?--didn't make him as happy as he truly did. But, he did. He was meeting expectations that he didn't even know he had, and Steve was falling for it. He was falling for Bucky. 

Steve's cheeks lifted up and he felt himself launch at Bucky with a wide smile and hold him close before his mind could register what he'd just done. He looked up at Bucky, about to back track when Bucky just held him tighter and smiled brighter.

"If this is how you're gonna welcome me home every day, then I'll take it. I love seeing you happy, Stevie, so beautiful." Bucky whispered.

Steve blushed and held his jacket tighter, he didn't believe Bucky but he didn't think he was lying. He knew that Bucky wasn't lying to him to make him feel better, but Steve couldn't take it just yet. Couldn't open his heart to complements like that when constantly  _ _You look like shit, do you even care about your appearance? Other people have to look at you, you know. They don't need to see your sloppy excuse of presentation skills.__

He shivered, but Bucky just held him tighter. Steve pressed himself against Bucky and they stayed like that for as long as Steve needed, just breathing each other in and pressed up against one another like they were glued together. 

Steve loved the feeling of Bucky pressed against him, the feeling of his warmth and his tender arms. He felt secure. He felt safe. Safe was not a feeling he had felt in a very long time, but now he was. He was feeling it for the first time in over a decade. And it was all thanks to this man, thanks to Bucky. Thanks to Bucky, Steve was beginning to feel again. He was beginning to regain his humanity, and with his humanity came other feelings like love, lust, and happiness. It startled Steve to think that he was beginning to feel these things again, but it didn't scare him as much as is used to. He trusted Bucky. 

Huh, there was a thought. He trusted him. He trusted someone else, someone who wasn't dead or hiding their true character. 

***

Bucky hated having to leave his boy at home all alone and go off to work. He had already come to terms that he had begun to referring Steve as 'his boy', but he dared not tell Steve about that. He didn't want to crowd him with that kind of talk, Steve had spent too much of his life as a possession and Bucky in no way saw him like that. He saw him as a determined and strong man to keep on living through a hell like that despite all of the pain, and the feelings that he felt for his boy were pure and soft and affectionate. He would let Steve grow and get better always before he his own selfishness of wanting reciprocation of feelings or anything like that. 

But, that didn't mean that Steve wasn't his. He wasn't an object or anything to be locked up or kept, not at all. His feelings of Steve being his were only at all for protection and affection. They were endearing not possessive and obsessive. Steve was his and that was that, but if he asked him to he'd let him go. Always. He only ever had Steve's best interest at heart always. 

But leaving him was hard. Whether it be for only eight hours of the day to work or a few to check up on things, it was hard. He'd leave his warm bed smelling of him and Steve and get dressed for the day and then come back to his room on his way out, and there would be Steve. He'd be shifted in the bed and smiling lazily at him (he'd started doing that, showing more than one emotion on his face other than fear or sadness) and then, Bucky would willingly come back to bed and just cuddle with Steve there. His suit would be wrinkled and his hair would be rucked up some, but he didn't care. He was in Steve's arms and Steve was in his. They were just soft touches, nothing below the waist and not kissing. They just held each other despite how much Bucky wanted to do so much more than that. 

Eventually, Bucky would have to peel himself away from Steve when Clint would come knocking on the door in a whiny and loud voice. He would get up and Steve would slide out of bed with him, tucked close under his arm. And then, when they reached the foyer and it was time for Bucky to leave Steve's expression would crush him. His face would be a little reserved and sad looking, and Bucky would have to hold him tight and then tell him he'd be home soon enough. He promised Steve he'd bring home treats for him, and sometimes that worked. But other times, Steve would just forlornly look at the ground and then nod when Bucky told him he'd be back soon. 

So, most of the time at work Bucky was curt and annoyed that he even had to be there. But at the end of the day, he would come home and Steve would be there nervously waiting and wringing his hands to hug Bucky. And immediately, the tension would come out of Bucky's body and he was home and there was his baby. 

Today however, was a particularly trying day. He had had to deal with incompetent bastards all day long who couldn't just move product like they were supposed to, and on top of that they had found a narc in their ranks and had to dispose of his body. He wasn't on Bucky's pay role or under Hill or Coulson, but some hot shot rookie who thought that he could get in and bust up a highly capable mob. Fury was going to hear about this one way or another, as head of the department he was going to hear about this either from their mutual friends or from straight and narrow cops. They were friends after all, so Bucky knew all he had to answer was going to be an apology and a stipend to the department and some consolation money to the family of the fallen officer but he wouldn't be found out. He was however, going to have to get her to root out this splinter cell with righteousness shoved so far up its ass that diamonds were going to pop out when they shit and that was going to take work. There was just too much, and all he wanted was to go home and maybe watch a lazy movie with Steve, bathe him, and then fall asleep together like every other night spent together.

He was sitting in the car picking at his finger nails and idly asking Happy if he could please drive any slower, when finally they were at his driveway. He perked up considerably and the driver let out a muffled sigh of relief, Bucky let it slide. The car stopped outside his house, and he did not at all run to the door and fix his hair and clothes before opening the door and step inside. He looked around for Steve, but the blond was no where in sight. He sighed and then checked the usual places that Steve was when he came home to surprise him; the office, the library, the garden, living room, but Steve wasn't in any of those places.

Bucky huffed and then went upstairs to try the studio, but Steve wasn't there either. He went back downstairs and then started to walk towards his bedroom while undoing his tie, phone in hand to call Natasha when he heard it. He stopped just outside his door and tilted his head slightly, checking where the sound was coming from. There was silence for a little bit, and then a muffled sound. His room was the origin.

Bucky turned to face his room and placed his hand on the door knob, and started to push the slightly ajar door when he registered what it was and saw through the crack exactly what he thought it was. He stood frozen and wide eyed as he looked in.

There, in the center of their bed was Steve freshly showered with his towel placed under his still damp form touching himself. Bucky had seen him in the nude before, but never looked too long at him to give him privacy. But there he was, laying on their bed with one hand coyly wrapped around himself and the other obscenely scissoring himself open. Bucky swallowed hard as he looked at his boy pleasuring himself. 

Steve's damp hair was plastered against his forehead and his face was flushed a light pink all the way down to his collarbone. His eyes were shut tight and his bottom lip was caught between his top and bottom teeth. He made soft little gasping sounds every few seconds and then a high pitched whine when his fingers would reach somewhere deep inside him. Sometimes, his right hand holding his cock would speed up while the left moved slowly in and out and then he would just let out staccato like breaths that were really more because he didn't know what sounds to make.

Bucky was about to pull away from the door, when Steve spread his legs wide and tilted his head back with a particularly loud moan.

"Bu-Bucky, Sir, feel-ls good..." he whined.

Bucky's eyes rolled back into his head as he felt the calling of his name from Steve go straight to his dick. He was pulsing inside his pants, and really without any thinking other than the possibility of hearing Steve call out to him more, he pushed the bedroom door open and walked in. Steve's head snapped to attention and his hands stilled, and then he began to shake. He pulled his hands away from himself and then looked up at Bucky as he pulled the towel over his form.

"J-James," he stuttered,"I'm-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...didn't mean to."

Bucky sat down on the edge of the bed next to him, cooing softly and keeping his hands to himself. He did however, lick his lips slightly and then speak to Steve in his low gravely voice that most women and few men found attractive.

"Stevie baby, you don't gotta apologize. 'S not a bad thing, not at all." 

Steve eyed him skeptically and then pulled the towel closer over his body,"You're not mad?" 

Bucky shook his head, a small smile on his lips and making a mental note, one out of a million of the same, to make Brock suffer for what he'd done to Steve,"No, couldn't be. Not when you were looking so sweet and pretty up there taking care of yourself. Looked so good," he hesitated for a second and then added softly,"looked so good for me, doll." 

Steve's baby blues slid up to Bucky's stormy blue eyes and there was a spark of shock and mostly just adoration all over his face. His hands twitched and relaxed some, the towel falling just a little bit and exposing his chest,"Really?" 

Bucky smiled and nodded,"Baby doll, you were so pretty. So good, taking care of yourself so nicely and all on your own. You wanna continue for me, show me how good you are?" 

Steve squeaked in his throat and then let his towel fall all the way off of his body until it was just resting on his thighs. Bucky's eyes flicked down to Steve's now half hard erection and then back up to Steve's face. Steve followed Bucky's gaze and then turned his body to Bucky and slightly spread his legs. 

"Baby..." Bucky groaned.

Steve's eyes closed a little bit and he forced out of himself as his ears reddened,"Will you...will you touch me? Please?"

Bucky moved closer to Steve and held his hand and then kissed it,"Are you okay with that? I want to touch you so badly baby, but only if you want me to."

Steve opened his eyes and looked down at their hands and then back up at Bucky quickly to check his expression,"Yes," he whispered.

Bucky raised his hand and ran it through the side of Steve's hair and then leaned in. If he was going to do this, he was going to do this right. He leaned into Steve and so slowly brushed their lips together.

"This okay?" he whispered.

Steve breathed out softly and licked his lips before nodding.

Bucky smiled and then kissed Steve once softly, and then pulled back slightly. He went back in once more and kissed Steve a little harder and then let their lips just keep pressing together and pulling apart until he changed their position. He moved to sit in front of Steve and then pulled Steve's small form to sit on his lap. Steve made a small alarmed noise in his voice that died off as Bucky kept kissing him. Bucky swiped his tongue across Steve's bottom lip and then as Steve's lips parted, he slipped inside. He tentatively pressed their tongues together, and Steve opened his mouth a little bit wider. He let their tongues swirl together over one another in circular motions and that was when things got a little heavier.

Bucky's hands that had been threading through Steve's hair wrapped around his back and pulled him closer to Bucky. Steve moaned softly and moved his hips against Bucky's and snaked his arms around his neck. They kissed softly and harder and Bucky pulled away from Steve as he felt the blond start to shake.

"You okay?" Bucky asked, slightly breathless.

Steve nodded and bowed his head, the shaking amplifying and then Bucky caught on to exactly what was happening. Steve, was crying. Bucky pulled away slightly and then placed his hand under Steve's chin. 

"Baby, oh baby doll, if this is too much then we can stop? Okay? Okay, we'll stop it's okay," Bucky whispered. 

Steve violently shook his head and held on tightly to Bucky and then harshly whispered out,"No! No! I don't want to stop...I-I haven't been this clo-close with anyone in a long time." 

Bucky's heart swelled and he crushed Steve against his chest, running his fingers through his hair at the same time,"That's okay, it's okay. We can take this as slow as you need." 

Steve and Bucky just stayed there in their position sitting with one another and close so softly. Steve was shaking and crying, but eventually he stopped crying and was just clinging to Bucky. Bucky just rubbed small circles into Steve's back and cooed softly while kissing his neck to comfort him. Eventually Steve started to nuzzle back against Bucky's kisses and sigh into his shoulder and thrust his hips back and forth. 

"Touch me?" Steve whispered, unsure. 

Bucky smiled and then kissed Steve's lips softly and pulled away while touching their foreheads together as his hand wound its way around Steve's small cock. His erection was wilted somewhat, but still standing up straight enough that Bucky was able to stroke him enough until his boy was whimpering in his lap. Steve was trying oh so hard to keep his sounds back, trying hard by biting his lips and holding his breath hard enough that his face was turning red. Bucky figured that Steve was just quiet in bed, quiet and soft and pliant. He wasn't going to push Steve any harder today, the boy had been through enough and he didn't need his own want to hear Steve screaming getting in the way of his boy's slowly going recovery. 

Bucky felt Steve go hard right in his hand and he started to pump faster and faster in order to give his boy as much pleasure as he wanted. 

"That's it, my good good boy. You feeling good, sweetheart?" Bucky whispered. 

 Steve vehemently nodded his head and nuzzled into Bucky's neck to seek comfort. He panted harder and harder, he involuntarily spread his legs wider to give Bucky even more access to his dick. Bucky only cooed in his ear and kissed his neck softly and pumped him harder. Steve lurched into him with the full force of his body and made a soft squeaking noise and then quickly cut it off. 

"Oh baby, it's okay, you can let it out." Bucky purred. 

Steve only trembled and then pressed his shaky lips to Bucky's jaw. Bucky then turned and viciously turned and pressed his lips against Steve hungrily. Steve melted into his arms and let himself be pressed into the mattress and roughly jerked by Bucky. He couldn't help but let out loud loud moans that reverberated off of the walls and then attempt to choke them back down, but failed miserably. 

"My good baby, yeah. You are, so good for me and making such pretty noises," Bucky moaned. 

"J-James..." Steve whined. 

Bucky pulled away and looked down at him, hand slowing some and just stroking Steve softly. His fingers were delicate and soft as he just moved up and down and up and down, listening to the shuddering breaths that Steve let loose. After a few minutes of just stroking him softly and slowly, Bucky noticed a slight change in Steve's demeanor. Steve slumped back slightly, his hands going to brace back against Bucky's knees so that his torso was elongated and his legs were beginning to spread wider. Bucky looked down and then back up at Steve's face, taking in the pretty red blush and the sweat matting his hair. 

"You close, doll? You feeling good?" Bucky whispered. 

Steve nodded his head harshly and spread his legs wider and wider as Bucky's hand sped up.

"My good boy, so good so pretty for me. Doing so well, you're so good," he said as he kissed Steve's collarbone. 

Steve whined high in his throat and then started to tremble but didn't reach back out for Bucky. Bucky seemed to notice his distress and slowly moved forward to lay Steve down on the bed and then keep taking care of him. He pushed Steve down on the bed and jerked his hand faster up and down Steve, twisting his wrist as he reached the head and letting is thumb swipe over the slit softly. Steve's breath kept catching and he kept holding back small moans that were loud but aborted quickly, but Bucky yearned to hear the sounds that Steve could make. He was a sight to see, all flushed and beautiful underneath him, and his reactions went straight to Bucky's dick so immediately. 

Bucky was straining in his pants, pleasure coursing through his body like a drum and building like a storm. It was so hot everywhere and his clothes were too tight. He wanted nothing more than to press against Steve and just kiss him and touch him for as long as possible, but this wasn't about him. It was about Steve and getting him to trust him. If Bucky were to whip his own dick out and ask for pleasure in turn, he wouldn't come off any better than Brock and Bucky wanted to be nothing like him in even the slightest respect. So, Bucky focused on giving all the pleasure in the world to Steve. 

"James...James, may I...may I come?" Steve whispered. 

Bucky looked up at Steve's face and swiped his bangs away before kissing him on the lips softly,"Of course, baby, come whenever you want." 

Steve just shook in Bucky's arms, his little hips lifting softly to meet Bucky's strokes up and down. He was being so openly lewd, but Bucky only took it in stride as he was doing something right. He was pleasuring Steve like he hadn't been pleasured before, and it made Bucky's heart swell. 

Bucky looked at Steve's face and knew that he was feeling so much more than he was ever going to be able to express in words. Bucky took in the look on Steve's face; his parted red lips shinning with spit, flushed skin, sweaty brow, damp hair, and eyes screwed up so tight to focus on the pleasure. He was a beautiful picture there laying on the bed under Bucky and lifting his tiny hips softly every time Bucky pulled his hand down. Bucky leaned down and kissed Steve softly on the lips, feeling the blond opening his mouth and letting him inside for a kiss. Steve whimpered into Bucky's mouth, his muscles going taut and his hands curling in the sheets every few seconds like he wanted to scrape his hands down Bucky's back but was restraining himself. 

Steve suddenly pulled away from Bucky's mouth and with wide rightened eyes looked down between them where Bucky was now stroking him roughly and then back up at Bucky's eyes. His eyes flitted back down and then to Bucky quickly every few seconds.

"James, Sir...Sir is it okay if I come?" he whined, brow creasing with worry.

Bucky kissed away Steve's worried brow and then pumped him faster. Soon enough, Steve was choking back whimpers and his back was bowing as he started to come. He was crying slightly by the time that he was spilling all over Bucky's hand and down across his stomach. Bucky cooed in his ear and made shooshing noises as Steve kept spurting all over his hand in thick pent up stripes of white. Steve shook all over as Bucky finally let go of his now softening cock, and Bucky smiled and kissed against his skin until Steve started to resurface out of his haze. 

Steve's eyes were wide and utterly struck with fear when he looked up at Bucky's pleasure riddled eyes looking down him. He sat up, pushing Bucky's hands off of him and then leaning forward into Bucky and reaching for his pants. Bucky caught his wrist and then firmly held him away from his crotch.

"I-I'm sorry...I didn't-didn't take care of you fir-first. I'll do it now," Steve whispered as he started to reach for Bucky again. 

Bucky held him firmly apart however and then looked at Steve who was not even making eye contact with him whatsoever,"Hey, hey. It's alright. Don't worry about me baby, I wanted to make you feel good." 

Steve flinched and then looked up at Bucky quickly before looking over his shoulder at some unseen object,"But I-I didn't take care of you first, James-Sir. It's...it's my job to take care of you first." 

Bucky cupped Steve's face with his one clean hand and then kissed Steve's sad brow. 

"Baby doll, don't worry about me. I want you to feel good, this was about you. All about you, I enjoyed myself plenty enough. I don't need you to take care of me out of an obligation sweetheart. I promise you." he cooed.

"But-but, I always had to. He...he made sure he got his first. I shouldn't, shouldn't have gotten mine first. Didn't-didn't need to." Steve said with misery in his voice. 

Bucky scooped Steve into his arms, careful not to touch him with his still soiled hand, and nuzzled close into his neck while kissing him. 

"No, baby, no. You deserved that, deserved to feel good. You don't have to take care of me unless you want to, and I will never force you to take care of me first unless you want to. This was all about you, I promise. Promise you sweetheart," Bucky whispered into Steve's jaw. 

Steve started to shake even harder, his entire body trembling in Bucky's arms as his tears started to well up considerably. He choked back on his sobs and then wrapped his skinny arms around Bucky's back and clawed at his suit jacket. He buried his face into the crook of Bucky's neck and just cried, trying not to let out ugly sobs. Bucky scrambled for some tissues on the beside table and wiped his hand off as he held Steve close to his chest and just breathed with him. Bucky discarded the tissues onto the table and then pulled Steve back onto his lap and crushed him there. 

"Baby, baby, it's okay. You can cry as long as you want. I know this is hard, it's so hard. I shouldn't have pushed you to do that if it was going to be this hard on you. I never want to hurt you Stevie, never never." 

Steve just curled into Bucky's body even more and cried a little harder as Bucky spoke to him. They stayed like this for al long long time as Steve's crying slowly gave way to large gulps of air and trembling while his face went blank and he was just a pile of limp bones. Bucky cradled him, rocking him back and forth and willing his erection to go back down even as he was pampering his baby boy. He tried to think about work and other things while cradling his boy, and slowly his erection went down and Steve had calmed slightly. 

He pulled back some only to have Steve hold on tighter to him and then go limp like he was caught prey. 

"It's okay baby, you can hold onto me as long as you want. Let's just get you changed and then some soup or tea and we can lay in bed all day long. Okay?" Bucky said between kisses. 

Steve only nuzzled in closer to Bucky and then nodded. He made no move to let go of Bucky and instead just clung tighter as Bucky got up off of the bed and over to the closet. Steve's clothes that Bucky purchased off the internet were placed inside Bucky's wardrobe and hung between his own clothes. Bucky chose some simple nightclothes, simple fleece button up long sleeve shirt and a drawstring pair of bottoms that were shorts to keep him cooler in the night under the heavy blankets. Bucky would also never admit that they made Steve's ass look as adorable as a button and sometimes when it was late and it was too hot in the house or under the covers, Steve would kick the covers off in a hurry and then lay face down on the bed with his legs spread wide and jostling Bucky awake. His ass was like a damn peach, soft and pink and--He needed to stop thinking about Steve's ass at the moment. That, could wait for the shower. 

Steve stood still and fidgety next to Bucky as Bucky slowly had him step into white little briefs and then the drawstring shorts. Steve looked down at the ground and then lifted his arms as Bucky dressed him in the button up with nimble large fingers. After Bucky had dressed him, he looked up at Steve and gave him a soft smile. 

"Come on, let's go get you something to eat, doll."

Steve immediately fell into Bucky's arms and latched on tightly, and Bucky just smiled against his skin and carried Steve out of the room. He walked down the hall, giving anyone in the room near them the evil eye as he walked by, making them scurry into any available room. He went into the kitchen and sat Steve down on the counter who worried at the sleeve of his nightshirt. Bucky padded around the room, taking down bowls and a large pot pan for two servings of soup and then set to work. He started with basic chicken stock and set that to a boil until he added in noodles to cook them thoroughly with spices and broth. 

When it was finally finished, he served them both and then scooped Steve up back into his arms and carried the boy back to his room. He deposited him on the bed and then tucked Steve in and kissed him on the forehead. 

"Stay here baby, I'll be right back." 

Bucky turned away and walked out of the room and to the kitchen quickly and back again. When he came back, he couldn't have been more than a minute away, Steve was sitting up in bed with wide eyes and hugging his middle. When Bucky walked back into the room, Steve immediately perked up and opened his arms for him. Bucky swiftly came over and sat down the bowls on the bedside table and then pulled Steve agains his firm chest. 

"Don't worry, I'm here. You did great today, so good for me. So good. I'm here, I promise." 

Steve clutched onto him and they stayed there for a little while until Bucky spoke up again,"Here, eat something really quick and then we can stay in bed together. Nothing other than this, okay? Nothing more." 

Steve nodded and then Bucky slowly fed him his food, carefully blowing off every bite of broth. He fed him diligently and carefully until Steve's eyes were starting to get sleepy and he was turning away from Bucky's insistent nursing. Eventually, Steve was snoring softly on Bucky's chest and falling into a deep deep sleep while Bucky held him tightly. 

Bucky held Steve closer and then kissed the crown of his head and snuggled them both under the covers. Bucky would keep Steve safe from any and all things, including himself. He would keep Steve safe, no matter what. 

***

__"Darling, hey oh no I'm so sorry. I'm sorry babe, but you know that you don't understand unless I handle you roughly don't you? And you did something bad, something so so bad and I can't let that slide can I? So, I just have you help you understand what you did wrong, okay? Okay." Brock said, giving that smile that used to make Steve go weak at the knees._ _

__Steve was sitting at their living room table, his hand still in the cast from when Brock broke it. There was a broken plate and water glass on the floor next to Steve, but all he could focus on was the belt in Brock's hand. There was a trail of sweat trickling down the side of his face and his mouth was dry, and all his thoughts were screaming were 'run'. But, he dared not to move a muscle at all. Experience told him that if he just took it and let Brock do what he wanted, then things would end sooner._ _

__"Say something! Goddammit, you answer me when I speak to you! DON'T YOU KNOW THAT BY NOW?" Brock bellowed._ _

__Steve flinched, he really tried not to but sometimes it happened when Brock yelled at him._ _

__"Y-y-yes Sir," he squeaked._ _

__Brock rolled his eyes and his mouth set into a snarl. He got out of the chair he was sitting in violently and stalked over to Steve. He stood behind him and placed the belt on the table in front of Steve. Steve's heart was jackhammering in his chest at an unnatural pace and his eyes were bugging out of his skull as Brock placed his large hands on his shoulders. There were a few seconds of silence, and then it was just Brock talking to him softly._ _

__"Hey, don't forget to be respectful. You use your honorifics, understand? Speak when you're spoken to." he started in a sweet calming voice and then in a blink of an eye he was slamming Steve into the table,"And you don't flinch when I speak to you, it's bad manners."_ _

__Steve's lungs felt like they were collapsing in his chest and the side of his face was blooming with pain while his vision swam. He gasped and tried not to focus on the way that Brock's hand was digging into his neck and making him feel like the world was ending. Oh god, oh god. This was it. This was the_ _ __moment. Brock was finally going to kill him._ _

__Steve was pressed against the table to where his chest was pressed flat against the top and his legs were shoved almost uncomfortably so against the underside of the table. The next thing he knew, the chair he was sitting on was pulled out from underneath him and he was pushed higher up on the table with more force. The hand on his neck tightened, and he felt his breathing speed up. Brock grabbed his still functioning hand and brought it behind his back and then reached for the immobile hand that Steve instinctively shoved down against his lap._ _

__"No no no no! Don't, Brock, please!" Steve cried out._ _

__"Shut the fuck up!" Brock screamed._ _

__Steve shut his mouth immediately and let his boyfriend pull his recovering hand back behind him. Next, Brock grabbed the belt and pulled the leather down hard against his wrists. Steve yelped as he felt the bruising bone of his broken hand radiate pain._ _

__"Keep your fucking hands there." Brock said as he pressed down warningly._ _

__Brock stepped away for a moment, and then set to work. He started to yank and pull on Steve's jeans as the blond started to kick and cry louder on the table. If he kept this up, they were going to get another noise complaint. And 'here in The Village, Steve, they don't get noise complaints from people. Learn how to be respectable and not some hood rat that I picked up off of the streets'._ _

__"Shut up. Shut. Up. What are you complaining about? Isn't this was boyfriends do? Huh?"_ _

__Steve pressed his face into the table and groaned as Brock slid hi boxers down and then started to undo his own pants. He pulled Steve's pants off until they were at his ankles, and then pulled Steve's head back up by his hair. He tapped at Steve's jaw with one hand, and Steve slowly let his mouth open up. He knew the routine by now. Brock slipped the Viagra into his mouth and forced him to swallow like all the other times before, and then threw Steve back on the table. Steve stared off to the side as Brock started to stroke himself behind him while the pill worked its way through Steve's system._ _

__He tried to think of other things. Of the way that the city glinted outside their windows or the way that Mr. Logan's art room smelled or the faces of his friends he used to hang out with. Of Peter whom he still kept in contact with and had been his only friend throughout half of high school until their old pals that they commonly referred to themselves as The Howling Commandos joined their shy duo. Steve had lost his virginity with Peter one night at a party when they were both drunk at Peggy's house while her parents were back visiting Great Britain Conquerer of All. It had been awkward and weird and confusing at the time, but after they just picked their lives up and didn't let it be weird or cloud their friendship. He only lost Peter and the rest of them to University Life and then with Brock's slow needs to be the sole thing in his life. In short, Steve alienated all of his friends for a man he loved, and now depended on._ _

__He tried to think back to Peggy's dark red lipstick and her retro hairstyles that she swore up and down were coming back into fashion. He sometimes, when Brock was like this, could remember their first kiss under the bleachers during the homecoming football game. They had gone steady for a little bit, but both decided in the end that it was better if they stayed friends and that was around the time that Peggy met her now wife Angie and Steve met Brock. He wished he had attended their wedding, but Brock had been depressed that day and Steve had to stay home and help him out. That phone call where she told him that Brock was nothing but a manipulative twat and he was going to get hurt by him one day, was the last time that they spoke. He had hung up on her and called her a few names and since then they hadn't talked, he got a card from her around April a year or so later where she and Angie were celebrating their wedding anniversary and having a huge party. He didn't RSVP, didn't want her to see the shell of a man he'd become. There were no cards after that._ _

__Sometimes he was able to trick himself into thinking about being back with all of his friends at lunch where Howard was tinkering with gameboys to try and make a more interactive game while the rest of them were having a smaller more contained food fight. Peter would be studying for SAT and hoping to god that he would get into NYU or into the LA Film Academy, to which he later got into NYU and quickly became infamous in the film department last time he heard, while Peggy would be announcing the new rules and playing ref while Dum Dum was arguing with Falsworth on who's peach-fuzz mustache was better._ _

__Steve wished he could return to that time, but he couldn't. Right now he was here with Brock who was lazily thrusting against his back and waiting for the unwanted pleasure to take over in Steve's body. Soon enough though, Steve was groaning and pressing his face into the table to try and not let Brock know he was hard yet. However, they'd done this too many times to where Brock would know._ _

__"Oh, darling, darling honey you're ready for me huh? It's better when you enjoy it too, isn't it?" Brock whispered as he spat into his hand and slicked himself up. He pressed himself into Steve, and Steve sucked in a breath to keep back from screaming. It always hurt, always. It was like he was being split open from the inside out and bleeding all over the place. He wasn't even remotely excited when Brock touched him like this, and even less when his boyfriend would lean over and tell him how much he loved him right before the beating started. He would shove Steve down roughly and then hit him in uncomfortable places, and not just like S &M type spankings, but enough to bruise and draw blood. This however, was the only way Brock ever wanted him now. _ _

__Brock pushed in and out of Steve roughly while gripping his hips and then squeezing Steve's sex tightly to keep him there. It hurt, not just the pressure but also the unwanted orgasm. This, was one of the nights where Brock was going to torture Steve for begging for his orgasm and then assure him that the feelings he would be feeling were justified. Brock grabbed Steve's wrists and held them tightly in his hands and pressed firmly, eliciting a shriek from Steve as his broken are was mauled._ _

__Brock moaned,"Love having you so soft under me, so compliant. So much better than all the other times, honey."_ _

__Steve panted along time with Brock's thrusts and tried to arch his back in order to loosen the pressure on Brock's grip. Brock's thrusts sped up and up as he rubbed Steve's quickly up and down. The younger male by now was just sobbing with thick heavy tears and runny snot dripping down his chin. He felt pleasure cresting inside his body and shook his head roughly as hist first induced orgasm was on the brink._ _

__"No! No no no no!" Steve whispered until he was screaming._ _

__Brock bristled behind him and then let go of Steve's arms and ripped at his hair with a fist. Steve whimpered, and then he was being slammed back down into the table. He cried louder and louder as Brock hit his face against the table again and again until Steve was quieted down and just breathing through his mouth instead of his blood encrusted broken nose. Brock spilled his release inside of him with a sharp painful thrust aimed more for his own pleasure than for Steve's. Brock slumped over Steve and stroked the tiny male harder until Steve's unwanted orgasm was spilling all over the dining room floor._ _

__Brock mouthed lazily at his shoulder and then straightened back up and pressed himself further into Steve before pulling out one last time. Steve's erection was flagging, and he knew that if Brock saw it, he would make Steve beg for another until it went down. Steve bowed his legs and tied to hide from Brock's stare, but failed as the rusty male caught sight and pulled his legs apart yet again. Steve pressed his face against the table and shivered, tears escaping his tired eyes._ _

__"You gotta say it, say it and I'll help you out sweetie pie." Brock taunted._ _

__Steve sucked in a few rattled breaths and then sobbed out the trained answer that Brock beat into him late one night with the first experimental Viagra,"S-Sir, please, will you-will you let me come? May I Sir?"_ _

__Brock's face split into a smile that made Steve's skin crawl,"Try harder, like you mean it."_ _

__Steve sobbed into the table and spread his legs wider for Brock and repeated the sentence as his boyfriend hit him harder and harder until he was just a bloody pulp against the table and the Viagra had worn off._ _

Steve bolted awake in his bed with Bucky and shuffled out of the bed loudly until he found himself pressed up against the wall in Bucky's walk in closet pressed up between Bucky's impressive tie drawers and the wall. Bucky's closet was like the closet from  _ _The Princess Diaries__ with various drawers with their own lights on the inside while Bucky's neatly starched and pressed shirts and blazers hanging above. The closet felt like Bucky and was filled with his smell and it calmed Steve down some. It let him remember that he wasn't pressed under Brock on the table of their apartment and being forced to take it up the ass. That was one of the first times that Brock had raped him, and Steve was sure that it would keep happening to him if Bucky hadn't saved him. 

His nightmares were often vivid like that and they rounded a lot, but he hadn't had one like this in a while. He had had his nightmares about the rapes and the beatings, but not of the early days with fear coursing through him so harshly for the first time. Fear had been a good friend of his for so so long and now, now he had a man telling him he didn't need to be afraid anymore. But Steve couldn't shake it, for years Steve had had to rely on fear to survive and now how was he supposed to get rid of all of those instincts and live a normal life. How was he supposed to go back? He couldn't just open his heart again so easily and let someone inside so quickly like he used to. He let Brock inside so easily and swiftly and he was burned, burned and scarred. It hurt, and if he tried to let Bucky inside then maybe...maybe Bucky would see just how fucked up and twisted he was. 

How broken, so so broken he was. Why would Bucky love someone like him? He had scars on the inside and the outside and so many problems with trust and many other things. Bucky couldn't love someone like him, not at all. Jerking him off was one thing, Steve was used to being an object of sex. Sex was something he was useful for, and if Bucky wanted him for sex then he would oblige. His heart might get in the way, but he was better at stuffing it down and leading someone along to believe he was fine when he wasn't. Well, clearly not now but when it came down to it he was better at convincing. He was able to lie to Brock and keep his head above water, and he would do the same with Bucky. 

Bucky didn't need to know that Steve wanted something more than physical. He really didn't. Steve just didn't want to get in the way anymore, not at all. He just wanted to be happy. So happy, he hadn't been happy in a long time. He used to be so happy.

Even when he was stuck in his abusive foster homes or the pleasant ones he had been happy, but now he was a shell of the boy that he used to be. His youth was sucked up and spent and now he was just a walking broken ghost. Why would Bucky want to fall in love with him? 

These thoughts swirled and spilled in Steve's mind and he was unable to keep from feeling like he was falling down a dark cavernous hole. He knew the signs of disassociation, he often retreated back to this as a defense mechanism. As if, if he could retreat into his mind then he was safe from all of the other things that could hurt him in the real world. He just stared blankly at the wall, a deep heavy hollow feeling settling in his chest while his mind drifted far far away to thoughts unbidden and absolute pure numbness. He hadn't realized just how long he had been staring or sitting so cold and alone in the closet until shafts of pale sunlight filtered their way across the carpet outside of the closet. It was at this moment that Bucky was starting to rouse from his sleep. It was just breaking dawn, and Steve found that the crime boss did not sleep as much as he should. Brock never slept very much either, and by extension Steve didn't either. He was always hyper aware of what was happening around him and what the people around him were doing, and as result was unable to relax at almost all times in his life. 

It was a disconcerting habit that he had developed, and when he realized that he had developed it he only honed in on the feeling even more and sharpened it to the point where some people would call him paranoid. Maybe he was paranoid, maybe he was broken beyond repair. Maybe--

"Steve?" Bucky's groggy voice called from the bed as he scrubbed at his face like a snuffling bear. 

Steve immediately shot to his skinny legs and emerged from the closet while picking unconsciously at the skin around his fingers. He made his way back into the bed and laid rigidly beside Bucky, facing him and trying to look as nonthreatening as possible. Bucky however, did not buy the act. 

"What's wrong, baby? Did you have a nightmare?" he asked as he circled his arms around Steve's cold frame. 

Steve, too exhausted and tired of fighting everyday of his life, just nodded. He let himself allow the small comfort of falling into Bucky's arms and feeling safe. Bucky had a way of calming him down, bringing his walls down almost immediately. He shook in Bucky's arms and just clutched onto the crime boss holding him. 

"Hey, it's alright. Do you want to talk about it?" Bucky offered.

Steve violently shook his head, not sure that if he talked about it now that he would be able to stop. He just pressed himself into Bucky closer and made no move to leave even as the light started to pour more rapidly down onto the bed spread, letting them know that it was time for the day to start. To go to work, for Bucky to leave. Steve wasn't sure he would be able to handle it if Bucky left today. Most days he was fine, he was okay. He was used to being left alone and forgotten, but today he didn't want that. Didn't need that, couldn't live with it. 

Bucky shifted, and Steve found a whine leaving his throat as he thought that he was going to leave him. He held on tighter, knowing that punishment could very well be on its way. 

"Okay, okay. I won't leave. I'm just going to go to the bathroom sweetheart, okay?" Bucky asked softly. 

Steve shook his head again and then felt Bucky's arms tighten around him, and then he was being lifted up. Steve immediately tried to push out of Bucky's arms, fearful that he was going to drop him or throw him across the room. But instead, all Bucky did was tighten his grip and then start to walk to the bathroom while still carrying Steve. He sat him on the edge of the tub, and Steve averted his eyes as Bucky started to go to the bathroom and then start getting ready for the day. Steve started to resign himself to the fact that Bucky was going to leave him today, and he tried to keep his crying out of the way. He was such a mess today, such a mess. Why couldn't he just cope and let Bucky leave him? He didn't owe him anything. Quite the opposite actually, Steve owed him everything. He had saved him, therefore Steve was in his debt. In his debt for everything; the art supplies, food, clothes, water, showers, everything. Steve could live with Bucky leaving if that was his payment back to the crime boss. 

Bucky rinsed his razor and placed it back on the side of the sink and then turned to Steve who had wiped his face clear of tears and was now staring at the floor. 

"Baby doll," Bucky whispered as he gathered Steve back up in his arms,"What do you need? Huh, what can I do to make you feel better?" 

Steve choked on his words and tried to hide his face in Bucky's shoulder, but the mob boss only made him keep eye contact. Steve closed his eyes and shook his head and tried to hyperventilate a sentence out. It took him a while with a shaking voice and hands as he sobbed to finally push out,"D-do-don't leav-ve." 

Bucky's face melted and he pulled Steve harder and closer to him while speaking soothingly,"Baby doll, oh don't cry. Don't cry. I'm right here." 

Bucky held Steve close, and for a moment Steve believed him and relaxed into his arms until,"I can't skip going into work today, sugar. But I'll tell you what?" 

Steve's full force shaking had returned and he was just staring blankly at the wall as Bucky spoke to him,"You can come to work with me? I'll do business and you can come with me. Be with me the whole day. Would you like that?" 

Steve hadn't been out in public in a long long time. After Brock had told him he wasn't allowed to go back to art class, he had stopped being allowed to go outside. For months all Steve knew was their apartment and was forced to watch out a window as life went by. From there for the next few years until Bucky rescued him, all he knew was the Hydra base compound and warehouse. The thought of being outside with people and birds and cars and  _life_ was daunting yet exhilarating. His stomach was queasy and his head was static, but it was better than the pit that grew with the mere prospect of Bucky leaving him. So, Steve nodded and let himself be gathered up and paraded around the house as Bucky got both himself and Steve ready for leaving. Steve had butterflies in his stomach and felt like a dog being allowed out on a walk, he knew this was a one time opportunity and that Bucky might not let him go out with him again. So, Steve would savor this moment as well as he could. 

Bucky walked to the kitchen and fixed them a quick breakfast and watched Steve like a hawk, making sure he finished every bite. Once they were finished with breakfast, Bucky put the dishes in the sink for the maid to clean up and then went back to his bedroom to get dressed. Bucky dressed in a sharp suit as per usual, and then turned to Steve and smiled warmly. Steve couldn't help but return the smile as Bucky picked something out for him to wear. He wound up wearing a tight fitting pair of Levi jeans with a loose v-neck t-shirt and a plaid button up on over it. Bucky smiled at Steve's appearance and then took them both to the bathroom to style their hair. Steve knew how he used to wear his hair and itched at the chance to do it for himself while Bucky was fixing his own hair. Steve glanced towards Bucky and then back at the hair gel on the sink, and made a bold decision to style his own hair. He took the gel and a comb resting on the sink and quickly combed through his hair before adding the gel and sweeping it off to the side in a net manner with no stray hairs. In another life, he would have spent hours in front of the mirror on his appearance and adding accessories here and there to look more presentable and pleasing for any man watching him. But now, Steve doubted anyone would look twice at him and was satisfied with his quick easy style. He set the comb back on the sink and turned to face Bucky and smiled softly. 

"It suits you," Bucky commented. 

Steve smiled brighter and let Bucky lead him out to the waiting car in the front. As soon as they stepped inside the car, Natasha was on him in a second flat. She spoke quickly and sharply until she noticed Steve.

"Tokyo is waiting on their video conference with you about the car exports, and the organization in the southern portion of Queens is starting to become a little bit of a problem...Hello there?" 

Steve turned and looked at her and gave a small head nod in her direction, not sure if he was given permission to speak to her or not even though she was his guard most of the time. 

"Going on a little field trip, are we?" she teased and Steve tensed.

Bucky noticed his tension and wrapped an arm around him and squeezed,"He's coming to work with us today." 

Natasha only raised an eyebrow and then went back to speaking just as professionally,"Right. Queens. The NYPD is looking for a little assistance, Coulson has been up my ass about speaking with you and has called Clint twice already. He sounds pretty distressed. However, today you do have a meeting with some rookies who want to join us and I told them you would meet them today before lunch." 

Bucky nodded and listened to her talk on and give his opinion while Steve stared out the window as the upstate suburbia started to fade into industrialized New York. Steve felt his heart rate increase and he gripped the plastic between the window and the car intently as the skyline came into view. He could see the familiarness of all of the buildings reaching to scrape the sky, the Empire State Building a beacon amidst all of the offices and companies, the Brooklyn Bridge stretching across the harbor, ferries going to Staten Island or Long Island, the sound of angry traffic and subways, the hustle as bustle of New York. It made Steve feel at home, and he closed his eyes and tried to think back to the last time he felt like he was coming home. He was too caught up in the feeling of nostalgia to notice that Bucky and Natasha were staring at him intently until he turned and caught their curious looks. 

"Sorry," he mumbled and settled back into his chair and tried not to look out the window like it was the first and last time he was going to see the city.

Bucky smiled and ruffled his hair some,"S'alright, go on and look as long as you want." 

Steve looked back out the window and when they passed by certain areas of the city, Steve could see himself walking down the streets leading another life--his old life. They turned down an inconspicuous alley and were led to a few squaty brick buildings with 'CONDEMNED' tape all across the front. Bucky reached across Steve and opened the door, ushering him out and onto the street. For a moment Steve panicked that maybe Bucky was just going to leave him here, but the fear deescalated as Natasha stepped out of the car on the other side and Bucky followed. 

Bucky led them inside the grimy building and past a run down lobby where a single man sat at the concierge desk and watched them with disinterest as they went past the double doors behind him. Steve expected the rest of the building to look just as run down and dirty as the outside and lobby had been, but appearances could be deceiving. Once they stepped inside, the exterior of grime and dirt faded away to reveal elegance and sleek compartmented operations. While Steve was busy eyeing the splendor of the room with lights and people rushing back and forth, a man that Steve somewhat recognized walked into the room. 

"Buckaroo!" came the man's voice.

Steve turned to look at him and with a jolt realized that it was the man who discovered him in the closet at Hydra's compound.

"Tony," Bucky replied evenly.

Tony sashayed in front of them and then stopped and looked at Steve with a pointed gaze and then snapped his fingers like a car sales man and flashed a blinding smile,"I know you, where do I know him? Help me out Starbuck where do I know him?" 

Steve shivered and pressed himself a little closer to Bucky who then gave Tony a harsh look and spoke firmly,"Tony. Knock it off." 

Tony's gaze flicked to Bucky for a split second and there was a flash of hesitancy, and then went back to Steve with a kind of determination that unsettled Steve. And then, suddenly Tony's eyes were alight and his mouth opened and then shut with an audible click as he felt Natasha shift subtly to his left. 

"Right, not important," Tony said, obviously trying really hard to let go of the feeling that he needed to express where he knew Steve from,"Business. Oh Wise Boss Man, I came to tell you that Pepper has got those newbies waiting in your office. So go, intimidate, do whatever it is you do. Just stopped by to tell you, I'm waiting on my new intern-Hey! Scottish Thistle! Over here," and with that the wiry man was gone and walking over to a kid about Steve's age with a heavy Scottish accent. 

Bucky shook his head and then placed a hand on the small of Steve's back and led them into his office. There were two people sitting in the room looking around as though they were trying to absorb all of the details of the room to report later, there were no attendees in the room until Bucky sat down at his desk and disregarded the two young people in front of him. Steve followed behind Bucky and watched as Natasha took up a spot off to the right of the door and stood at attention as though she were in the military. The man and woman sitting in the two chairs in front of Bucky's desk were watching them expectantly, and the woman kept looking and Bucky and tapping her feet as though she were going to say something stupid at any moment. However, before she could speak Bucky was speaking. 

He disregarded the people before him and instead turned to look at Steve and spoke to him softly with a kind voice,"I have to take care of some business, you can just watch sweetheart and then we can go out for lunch," he gave Natasha a nod and she only nodded back and left the room silently. 

Not even a few seconds later, the door was opening again and Natasha and a strawberry blond haired woman with a soft but authoritative atmosphere was stepping in and smiling warmly at Bucky and Steve. She strode over in just a few quick steps and passed Bucky a few papers and a warm cup of coffee that Bucky gracefully accepted with a quiet 'thank you Pepper'. Pepper stepped away and then turned slightly to Steve. 

"Do you need anything, hon?" she asked as sweetly as possible, the warmth reminded him of his mother. 

Steve shook his head and tried not to look at her too closely or else he would begin to remember the fire, flames, screams,  _you didn't try to save her--_ a heart attack loneliness--He had to stop thinking. He instead peered at his feet and stood off to the right of Bucky who then motioned for him to sit in the chair next to him and pull it closer to where Steve was just barely touching Bucky. Anyone could tell that Steve was something important?--no  _useful_ to Bucky and at the moment was of great value, property or otherwise. Bucky still disregarded the two people sitting in front of him, and they shared a look. Steve could tell one of them was going to do something stupid, like speak out of turn. Steve learned that that was a grave mistake when concerning gangsters or anyone with remote power. 

It took all but two minutes of Bucky fiddling with the paper and taking a drink from his coffee for the impetuous woman to speak with a high and nasally voice,"Excuse me?"

Bucky only held up a solitary finger and then turned to Steve and asked him if he was comfortable, needed anything, and was okay. Steve only felt at ease as he watched Bucky give him all of his attention and had quite obviously demanded the audience of the entire room without even speaking once. He then turned away from Steve when he was satisfied with his answers, and then smiled at the woman who only gave back a kind of smile that looked like she'd just bitten into a lemon. Her partner on the other hand only looked at her with concern riding high on his brow. Bucky then reached for the landline on his desk and dialed a number while still flashing that menacing smile until the person on the other end of the line picked up.

"Coulson, it's me," Bucky started in a tone that completely betrayed the angelic nature of his face,"Yeah, I'd like to know why two of your agents are sitting here in my office trying to act as if they aren't anything but cops."

The temperature dropped a few degrees in the room and Steve felt contentment settle deep into his chest as Bucky took control of the room, nothing got past him. The faces of the man and woman in front of him dropped, and quickly paled. Bucky however, just eyed them carefully and still spoke to the man on the other end of the phone. 

"I understand that Phil, I do. I really do. Your boss is in your ass about surveillance, but I have to tell you, our understanding is nonnegotiable. You understand me? Both you and Hill were given  _very explicit_ guidelines. I don't like being lied to Coulson. I do you favors, and you do me favors. It's a mutual relationship, and you do not cross those lines. Ever. Do I make myself clear? The only answer out of your mouth should be yes, anything less is unacceptable," Bucky said, all humor leaving his posture and tone. 

Steve felt butterflies in his stomach, not the kind from fear, but admiration and attraction. Bucky's ruthless display of power, was exhilarating and sent jolts of lightning down his spine as the sudden realization came to him that if he stayed in Bucky's good graces then he was  _safe_. Steve felt himself relax some, the tension from this morning ebbing away to a safe kind of calm. He rarely ever felt this calm, and this moment was a perfect revelation of grace. 

"Good. Now that we understand where our limits are with each other and we know where not to cross again, we can move forward. Unfortunately, I don't give second chances and if I find this kind of shit happens again there will be more than a few broken bones involved. Alright? Alright. I'll get your agents back to you as soon as I can, you can check in with Lower Manhattan Hospital. Talk soon Coulson." and with that Bucky set the phone back down and leaving no room for argument. 

The man and woman only gaped at him, a sheen of sweat appearing across both of their brows. 

"As collateral, both of you will be paying for the mistake of your boss. And if either of you have the gall to break any of the agreements I have with your Captain, we'll be having a much more intimate and personal chat. Natasha, if you will please have Thor and Clint escort our guests out of the building." 

Bucky turned away, dismissing them and ignoring the scuffle as they both shouted as they were subdued and dragged away by Clint and Thor out of the office and into another part of the building where they would be "taken care of". Steve's legs felt like jelly, and if work was like this all of the time for Bucky and he was always this powerful and confident, Steve never wanted him to stop. 

As the hours ticked on and the day slowly faded into afternoon and lunch approached, Steve had become more calm and content as Bucky's meetings came and went and he scribbled down notes and made deals accordingly. Steve began to doze somewhere in the middle of Bucky's second meeting around eleven, and then snapped back awake just as Bucky was turning to rouse him. He rubbed his eyes softly and then stood up as Bucky stood and led him out of the office.

"Sleep well?" Bucky inquired. 

Steve nodded sleepily and leaned on Bucky as they walked out of his headquarters and back to the car out front. As Steve slid into the car and realized just where they were going and what they were going to do, he perked up and slid off his coat of sleep. He was looking forward to going into the city, he hadn't been in the city in such a long time and yearned to walk the streets once more. They were driving past Central Park and just off of Madison Avenue when Steve realized where they were going. It was a fancy restaurant called Daniel that served French cuisine and was very upscale, it was one of the restaurants on the list that Steve used to have for surprising Brock with for a date when he earned enough money to take them. They parked outside the building and Bucky stepped out, getting the door for Steve and then led them to the front of the building. The building seemed to be closed, however when Bucky stepped up and knocked on the door twice and then once it opened up. Perks of the rich, Steve assumed as they seemed to only be open for dinner. 

They walked inside, and the sight took Steve's breath away. The plaster leading up to the ceiling were held up by large white pillars with archways designed between them, with crown molding kissing the ceiling with nice swirled floral patters. The ceiling was molded as well with singular squares with smaller hexagons inside. From the ceiling hung five large chandeliers, four smaller than the center one that absorbed the room with its two tiers of crystals. The room was lit up in a soft kind of glow in the afternoon light, illuminating the white tablecloths and chairs in a complementing manner to the abstract paintings on the walls and the plants centered about the room. Steve would have loved to have replaced at least a few of the abstract works with his own charcoal sketches of nude figures done tastefully and not hinting at any kind of nudity but more like Greek statues with thin clothing covering more delicate areas.

Bucky stepped up to the desk and passed the thin man standing behind it a card and then smiled at Steve. The man scurried away, and soon enough a waiter was showing them to their seats. He led them to a more private room where more refined guests were sitting at similar tables to the ones in the main dining hall with chaise lounge chairs instead of cherry red wooden chairs. They were escorted to a table next to the window that looked out into the city and a view of Central Park, their menus were served accordingly as well.

Bucky cracked open the menu and carelessly looked at the items on display and soon enough selected what he wanted. Steve however, was not so fortunate. His eyes were popping out of his skull at the prices. He was beginning to sweat as the waiter came back to take their orders. He looked to Bucky and then back at the menu, when Bucky picked up on his discomfort. He carefully took the menu from Steve and placed a soothing hand on him and spoke to the waiter for him. 

"We'll do the six course tasting menu." he told the boy in front of them. 

Steve visibly relaxed and tried not to think about what the price was going to be, he didn't want to think about money at the moment. The waiter flitted away, and Bucky turned to Steve with a kind smile and continued to stroke his arm and then pulled Steve to where he was practically in his lap. 

"How are you doing? Better from this morning?" 

Steve nodded,"Yes. Thank you, James." 

Bucky smiled and squeezed Steve closer. '

"Anything for you, Steve." 

They sat in silence for a little while longer until Bucky spoke again,"I enjoy having you at work with me." 

Steve turned slightly, daring to speak and have a conversation with Bucky. It was progress,"You do?" 

"I do. I like seeing you, it makes me happy," Bucky said as he kissed the top of Steve's head.

Steve blushed. Him? Make Bucky happy? Not possible, although Steve was beginning to think that just maybe he could be and wouldn't mind being responsible for Bucky's happiness in the future. 

"You do," Bucky said as though reading his thoughts,"You really do. I care for you Steve, I want you to know that." 

Steve blushed even harder and tried to hide his face into the side of Bucky's chest. There was warmth blossoming in his chest, the fire in his heart was only growing and the feeling swelling in his stomach was ballooning. He felt himself falling in faster and faster in love with Bucky. He was trying not to fall so hard so fast, as he'd seen what things like that did to him the last time. But, it was happening and Steve knew that there was no way that he was going to be able to stop it. His feelings were only going to keep absorbing the fibers of his being until the consumed every inch of him. So, for today at least, Steve was going to indulge himself in these feelings. He didn't want to tell Bucky just yet that he was caring for him as much as he had, but it was slipping out of his mouth faster than he would have liked. 

"I...I care for you too. You-you make me...," his voice died off at the end,"happy."

Bucky squeezed Steve closer to him, and Steve let himself be pulled into the embrace and smiled. They stayed like this just talking and whispering inappropriately in a four star restaurant until their food came. They ate together side by side on the couch facing the window and Steve let himself feel like he was normal human being for the moment. However, the moment was slightly tinged when Steve caught glimpse of the cheque. It was too much for him to be able to ever pay back Bucky with, but he would do it. Just because he made Bucky happy, did not mean that he was absolved of any and all debts.

They left the restaurant well into the afternoon, and Steve was a beaming happy mess standing next to Bucky. The walked some past shops and buildings and restaurants and such, chatting happily when Steve heard it. He had thought he heard it a few other times as they were walking, but dismissed the thought. New York was big after all, and there were thousands of Steves. However, this voice was insistent and slightly British and echoed by two other voices one male and one other female. Steve stopped after hearing his name called for the third time, and looked around. His eyes skipped and scanned across people while Buck stood still and looked with him, a protective hand on his shoulder. Soon enough, just when Steve was about to turn around and keep walking he spotted familiar red lipstick, blond hair, and a lanky body. There, emerging on the streets of New York, were three people that Steve knew very well at least once in his life.

Steve felt the blood drain away down to his feet and his hands ice up as they came out of the crowd. He stiffened and tried to ignore the way that Bucky was looking at him and slowly moving his hand to the inside of his jacket. Soon enough, the three young friends he once had were right there in front of him as though stepping right out of his memory.

"Steve Rogers, come over here this instance and give me hug," came Peggy's voice as she let go of Angie's hand.

Steve swallowed and gave his best impression of a smile and slowly moved away from Bucky who had removed his cellphone from his pocket and was now holding it at the ready as if he were going to need to make a quick phone call. Steve felt like he was being moved by someone else, stiff and mechanical, as he embraced Peggy loosely. He held her close and tried not to tear up at how familiar her perfume was or how it felt to have her pressed against him. Steve pulled back and gave her another smile, before he was being roughly pulled into Peter's arms. He winced at the action but hugged Peter back nonetheless.

"Oh god, man. I've missed you. How have you been? It's been a while." Peter said as he let Steve out of his arms.

"Y-yeah it's been...a while." Steve murmured out.

Peggy's smile faltered some, and then their conversation turned back to tentative normality. Behind him, Steve could feel Bucky moving in closer after he had assessed their presences to be nonthreatening. Both Peggy and Peter's eyes flicked up to Bucky's and there was a hard protective sort of emotion behind their eyes. Peggy moved slightly to where Steve was a little more to the side of her and behind. She, without any hesitance, held out her hand and looked Bucky right in the eyes.

"Peggy Carter, you must be Brock." she said with a hard edge.

Steve flinched, and Bucky's eyes slid over to his.

"No...n-no Peggy, this is," Steve paused as all four pairs of eyes were on him,"...this is James."

Peggy's expression did not change much, but she did stop squeezing Bucky's hand like a viper. She stepped back some and resumed holding hands with Angie while Peter spoke next.

"Nice to meet you, Peter Parker. I take it that you're dating our boy here?"

Steve lunged forward and grabbed Peter's arm with a shaking hand and then spoke to Bucky,"I-I'm sorry, he doesn't know when to shut up sometimes."

Bucky raised an eyebrow before smiling,"Nothing to be sorry for. I'm James Barnes, it's nice to meet some of Steve's friends after all this time." 

"All this time?" Peggy inquired,"Are you telling me he finally broke up with that sack of shit Brock?"

Bucky looked to Steve for a second and then continued on by lying to Peggy Carter,"Yes, fortunately for me. Steve and I met a few months back, but we're just friends." 

Steve's small smile wobbled on his lips and then he turned back to look at Peggy and his friends.

"Just friends?" Peter said not buying the story whatsoever,"I'll believe that when I see it, Stevie he's totally your type why haven't you made a move yet!"

Steve flushed and fumbled over his words while Peggy glared at Peter and then signed something to him quickly with anger. Steve's lips quirked up at her rapid finger movement and he took in the familiar use of sign language. _Shut up Peter, why don't you just embarrass him some more?_ Peter's response to this was a quick large movement and a roll of his eyes  _Jesus Peggy I was just trying to make some conversation._ Steve snorted and the two of them turned to look at him softly as he moved his hands slower than theirs and signed back, he was never really that good afterwards when Brock broke his hand and told him that the movements of signing pissed him off something fierce.  _Some conversation, wouldn't you think so?_ Peggy and Peter grinned at him and before the conversation could get any lager or out of hand, Bucky spoke again. 

"I didn't know you could sign," he commented.

Steve, purely out of habit, hid his hands behind his back and stared up at Bucky with wide eyes,"O-Oh I just...we used to use it as a secret code in high school."

Bucky smiled at Steve and Steve let his lips lift up softly and then fall back down quickly.

"Don't feel bad," Angie, whom Steve had never met in person before, said,"they do it all of the time. When I first met them they had an entire conversation about me in front of me like this. Dum Dum was so kind to inform me about what they were saying later on."  

"You know Dum Dum?" Steve asked stupidly and then mentally kicked himself, of course she would know him and the guys. The only person she didn't know was Steve. 

She turned to Steve and smiled and held her hand out,"I do. I'm Angie. Angie Carter. So you're the infamous Steve Rogers?"

Steve blushed and looked down after shaking her hand.

"From what I hear, you're quite the legend. Peggy holds you in high regard and Peter does as well. Your friends love you very much," she said kindly.

Steve furrowed his brow.  _You mean loved. Loved._

"Quite the legend! Are you kidding me?" Peter squawked,"I once saw this guy, stubborn as a mule," he started with large gesticulations and looked at Bucky as he spoke no doubt having told the story more than a few times throughout the years,"practically go to war. There was this guy, he was a neo-nazi man, stubborn and ugly and--he was a class act jerk. Anyway, Steve-o here, sees him harassing this girl on the street outside the diner. And of course, Steve being Steve, just gets up from the table and goes outside and confronts the guy. You can hear them screaming at each other through the glass, and at the moment it's just me and Peg at the table while everyone else is on their way and we tried to get him to stop honest. But you know Steve, man just won't let anyone help him out, says he can do it all when he literally gets sick every month and used to have asthma attacks in gym from just running stairs. So Steve says he can take this guy on his own, and this guy is huge! But Steve, the bastard, just swings and catches him in the jaw and I swear to god, this guy had a jaw made of steel or something 'cause he just glances back and spits and then grins at Steve. Dumbass punk wound up having to get two of his teeth capped and had a black eye and bruised ribs for a week. The other guy wound up leaving with busted knuckles and a broken nose. He didn't mess with that girl again though."

Steve looked at the ground, ears flushing the whole time. 

"Moral of the story?" Peggy said as though it were their regular script.

"Don't mess with Steve Rogers, and don't let the dumbass out of your sight 'cause god knows what kinda shit he'll get into," Peter said back. 

Bucky looked at Steve, raising one eyebrow but smiling nonetheless,"Is that right? Didn't know you were such a fighter, Steve."

Steve squeaked and looked up, eyes large and threatening to cry,"M'not, just...just Steve now."

Peter and Peggy's smiles faltered, Angie squeezed Peggy's hand to reassure her. However, they didn't miss a beat and just kept the conversation going as though Steve wasn't implying what it was that he was implying. 

"Well, 'Just Steve' that's fine by us. You're still our friend, nothin's gonna change that," Peter said as he slung his arm around Steve's shoulders.

Steve grimaced and then smiled to cover it up. Bucky could tell he was on the verge of tears or a panic attack. 

"Speaking of friends, we're going to be late if we don't go now. Wanna come with us Steve, we're meeting the Howlies for lunch," Peggy offered.

"Oh...um...I uh-I don't," he stumbled.

Bucky stepped in and laid a hand on Steve's shoulder and immediately the blond relaxed into him as Peter stepped back,"We've actually got to go back now, just on our lunch break. Right, Steve?"

Steve nodded his head vigorously. 

Peggy's eyes darted between Steve and Bucky, and then they finally landed on Bucky as she gave her consent. The three of them pulled Steve into long hugs and talked with him a while longer, and as Steve was distracted with Peter telling him something fascinating about his new life, Peggy spoke to Bucky from the corner of her mouth and low enough to not draw attention to herself. 

"You better treat him right. The last time he got hurt, we didn't know a damn thing about the guy until it was too late. But I know you James Barnes and I know what your business is, the Howlies aren't just our friends and I'm sure you know what they're capable of. Even Steve doesn't know," Peggy whispered.

Bucky laughed like she made a joke to keep up the appearance of friendliness,"Believe me Mrs. Carter, I completely understand what you mean and I'll be damned if he gets hurt gain."

Peggy made a noncommittal noise and then stepped away from Bucky to hug Steve goodbye. He looked like he was more at ease now that his friends were leaving, and Bucky wondered if maybe it was because he had been unprepared to see them today or if he didn't want them to be in his life anymore. But from most of his reaction and his friend's reactions he didn't think that was the case. After his friends had said goodbye, Bucky made sure Steve was tucked into his side and felt secure. 

"It was nice t-to see you guys...again," Steve said, confidence leaving him as the sentence tapered off. 

Peggy, Angie, and Peter just acted as though Steve hadn't been so nervous the entire time. Bucky squeezed Steve's shoulder to reassure him, and the blond relaxed into his side softly tipping his head against Bucky's ribs. The three eyed them both carefully but smiled nonetheless. There was silence for a few moments.

"Well, I guess we should get going," Peter said. 

Peggy nodded curtly and Steve looked at them a little depressed.  _They don't want to see you again, they don't want to see what you've become. You'll be alone again_ , he thought bitterly. 

Bucky, as though reading his thoughts, then spoke up,"Why don't you three and the Howlies come by for dinner some time. We can have a dinner party sometime and you can see Steve some more when work doesn't interfere."

Peter's eyes lit up and he looked at Peggy expectantly who nodded slowly,"I don't see why not. We'd love to see you again, Steve, really."

Steve nodded a little too enthusiastically and they all laughed together, not at him he noted. They swapped numbers with Bucky and then soon were on their way. Steve leaned heavily into Bucky and then hid his face in the mob leader's jacket.

"Thank you," he mumbled. 

Steve would never be able to pay Bucky back for everything he's done for him, there was just too much that Bucky was so good at fixing. 

***

After the day that Bucky first met Steve's friends, he did background checks on all of them. He found out that Peggy was an ex private eye and now owned a restaurant with her wife Angie that cooked homestyle type foods and that Peter worked with the press as an intern or assistant to the Editor in Chief; he also did extensive research on the Howlies, having run across the name multiple times over the years but thinking nothing of it, and Howard was interestingly enough Tony's estranged cousin. They were a small for hire group that sided themselves with different companies or gangs based on their morals, and Bucky had to admire their skill sets. He was sure that if it came up then he would be able to offer a job position for any of them if he so needed them. Overall, he found Steve's friends to be charming and on the up and up. 

He was reviewing their case files he asked Natasha to put together for him, when Thor and Clint burst into the room. Thor looked out of breath and Clint looked even more twitchy than he usually was. 

"Boss," Thor started, his voice booming around the room.

Bucky looked up and raised an eyebrow, drinking in their appearances. 

"We have a problem," Clint blurted.

"That's not a word I like to hear, Clint," Bucky said, ice draining into his voice.

Clint swallowed,"Yes, sir, but...we have a problem. It seems that our little friends from the NYPD who were here last week, are becoming a threat. The woman, oh god what's her name Flower or something, is currently drawing a lot of attention to our business." 

Bucky scrubbed a hand down his face,"Jesus Christ, what kind of trouble is she causing."

Clint wrung his hands out and elbowed Thor in the ribs,"She's threatening to go to the Commissioner about this or the press."

Bucky cursed, the commissioner he had yet to acquire to be in his pocket but they were steadily getting closer. If Daisy or whatever her name was was about to expose all of this, then his connections with Coulson or Fury would no longer be withstanding and there would be a war. He was going to have to deal with her swiftly and quietly.  

"Where is she now?" Bucky grit out.

"She's waiting at her apartment for you. Says that you can come to her if you're serious about this," Clint whispered.

Bucky cussed, what did she think this was? Did she think this was a movie, did she not know that this was his life and she was playing a very dangerous game. If he agreed to meet her, what was next? Meeting with outright terrorists? He drummed his fingers against the table top for a few moments and then stood up. 

"Okay, here's what we're going to do. Natasha will accompany me to the bitch's apartment, and we'll make her see reason. If she doesn't, and she sends the files that I know she has on us to the press, then we take her out and we work with our contacts to reduce this damage. If she asks for anything and tries to blackmail us, Barton you're going to take her out. Bring Stark with us and make sure he gets tapped into her computers to set a virus on anything she might be trying to send out. A clean up crew is going to be needed with this one, these righteous bastards never die; they're like fucking cockroaches. And someone let Steve know I'll be home late," Bucky said as he shrugged his jacket on and started to walk out of his office. 

As he left the room, the rest of the compound scrambled to comply with his orders. This was going to be hell for one Daisy Johnson. 

Bucky met up with Natasha on the way to the car and he could tell from her walk just how pissed she was, and that Daisy was not going to get off easy. The car ride to her apartment, which was poor and cluttered, was easy and swift. She wasn't home yet, so Bucky stalked around the one bedroom apartment and took note of her as a person. There were pictures of her and two parents at animal shelters and children's hospitals or family vacations, and then singular pictures of both of her parents with birth and death dates at the bottom. Clean up would be easy if there was no one but friends to miss her, parents and lovers were harder to shut up than loyal friends were. Her apartment was cluttered with varying unfinished projects that Stark would have figured out in under ten minutes flat if given the chance. Overall, the feel that he got from Daisy Johnson as he waited in her living room was that she was compulsive, flighty, a hot head, and unstable as well as naive. 

He sat down on her dilapidated living room chair facing the run down front door while Natasha stood to his right and watched lazily for Daisy. The ear piece in his left ear crackled to life with Clint's voice, _"Bouquets of flowers are being delivered."_

Bucky smirked, and soon enough Daisy's house key was unlocking the front door. She walked in carrying four other bags and the reached for the light switch while humming a Britany Spears song, when the lights didn't flick on immediately or thereafter she scrunched her nose up and then looked out into the apartment. Upon seeing Bucky she flinched and then breathed out a laugh as she sat her bags down. She had a brace on her right arm and a few stitches on her face and Bucky suspected that she had a few more under her clothes around her ribs. 

"Wow, I just-I can't believe you're here. I would've figured you were too proud to come," she chuckled as she crossed her arms. 

Bucky only frowned at her. 

She shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot,"So uh, let's talk business yeah?"

She started to walk over to Bucky's side when Natasha's cold tone stopped her,"We'll talk business, you listen."

Daisy scoffed and then crossed her arms and made a motion with her head as though Bucky had the  _right_ to speak. He did not like this girl.

"Here's how it's going to go. You're going to tell me why you decided to blackmail me into meeting you here at your apartment, and what exactly it is that you want and I'll see what I can do," he said idly.

Daisy smirked as though she knew he was going to give in with her little threat. 

_In his ear, Stark whispered,"Ole Weeds here, knows what she's doing. Just keep her talking and we'll have her files soon enough."_

"I want you to turn yourself in. I think you're a menace to the city and that what you're doing is corrupt. You've got my boss under your thumb and I want you to let him go. If you don't I'll send my files to the press. I have a contact at the New York Times that will want to print this as fast as he can. I won't agree to anything less than this," she said confidently.

Bucky nodded,"That's it, no money? Power?"

Daisy made a face,"Who do you think I am?"

Bucky got up and walked to the side of the room idly,"I don't know. Who are you Daisy Johnson? You call me, knowing exactly what I do for a living, and try and blackmail me knowing full well what I could do to you. So all you want to do is follow a morally righteous path?"

Daisy grew angry and started to move her arm in large wide circles,"I want the world to be a safer place and you aren't doing that! At least at the NYPD I can make a difference. All you're doing is peddling drugs and supporting illegal activities."

_"Bingo. Houston you are clear to launch," Tony said obviously already having hacked into her files._

"That can't be the only reason," Bucky said dryly. 

Daisy licked her lips and looked off in the direction where the photos were of her parents,"My parents got caught in the crossfire of your little war with some gang in Queens last year. My parents bled to death in the middle of the street over a pound of cocaine that went missing from your inventory."

_"I have a clear shot, what's your status on those files Cyborg?" Clint mumbled._

_Tony hummed in his ear,"Two files left. Once she's down, these last few should be easy clean up."_

Bucky looked to Natasha and she minutely nodded. She turned to the side and pressed her fingers against her temple, a sign Clint could see from the building across the way.

"What? Is my sob story not sad enough for you? Oh I'm sorry mister-big-bad-boss, but this is my life and you can go to hell if you--" she screamed.

Halfway through her sentence, Bucky yawned and through the glass came a clean shot that hit her right between the eyes. She fell to the ground easily and Bucky walked over with his own gun, shooting her twice more in the head and once in the throat for good measure. He sighed and then pressed on his ear piece to speak to Stark. 

"All the files are taken care of, yes?" he said, confident in Tony's abilities.

_Tony made a noise,"Clever bastard..."_

"Do we have a problem, Stark?" Bucky snapped.

_"Here's the thing about hackers, they always have a back up plan and her back up plan was to immediately email any and all files that were not deleted to the Editor In Chief at the New York Times in the case of her death."_

Bucky pinched his brow,"And what are those files of?"

_Silence over the line for a few seconds was heard as Tony quickly skimmed,"It seems she has some information on your recent trip to Versailles and the work you've been doing on Hydra."_

This time, it was Natasha who cursed,"We don't have contacts at the New York Times, and the press isn't loyal no matter who we pay. This is going to get out."

Bucky thought for a few moments, panic and anger rising up in his throat until he remembered his intel on Steve's friends. Peter Parker. 

"We have a contact. I don't know him very well, but Stark you're very convincing. Go visit him and work and make sure those emails don't get out there and are never seen again. I'll give our boy a call, let him know you're coming."

Bucky pulled out his phone, dialing the number Peter gave him not even a week ago. It ran four times before Peter picked up, out of breath and tired.

_"Hello?"_

"Peter, it's Bucky. We met last week. I was with Steve," he said, using his charmer's voice.

A loud crashing sound was heard in the background," _Oh yeah, yeah hey. Mr. Barnes, what's up?"_

Bucky hummed,"Listen, Peter, I need a favor."

Silence.

 _"What kind of favor?"_ came his skeptical reply.

"I've run into a little business snag. A friend of mine is on his way over to help you out with what I need done."

_Peter laughed shakily,"Nothing illegal right?"_

Bucky was quiet for a few moments and then spoke softly,"Peter, I need this favor. I'm begging you. If not for me, do it for Steve."

Peter was quiet for a few moments _,"I understand. I'll see what I can do."_

"Thank you," Bucky breathed out.

_"And Mr. Barnes, I hope you look after Steve and that he doesn't get into trouble with whatever this has to do with him. I'm going to hold you to this."_

The line clicked to an end and Bucky was left irritated and also conflicted with the comforting knowledge that Steve had friends who cared about him. He had faith that Peter would take care of business, and as a show of his gratitude he texted Peter that he could call in a favor whenever he needed it. Favors weren't something Bucky just handed out, it meant that he trusted Peter and he didn't trust many people. 

***

At the end of the day, Tony and Peter were able to delete the emails that Daisy had somehow been able to send off in the inevitability of her death. The entire event left Bucky exhausted and irritated when he went back to his office to take care of the rest of the work waiting for him. But, his irritation did not have time to cool down at all. For the rest of the afternoon and majority of the evening, Bucky had to deal with the fuck ups that everyone else get making until he was snapping left and right and threatening to "fire" more than one person. Eventually, his work was cleared and his stress left him from work but not entirely. 

"Go home," Natasha snapped as she snatched the folders away from him.

Bucky frowned at her.

"Don't give me that look. Go. Go home and be with your boy and don't let this affect him," she warned.

Bucky grumbled but nodded nonetheless and decided she was right. He walked out of the compound and to the car where he then sat through two hours of traffic. When he finally got home, it was late and dark and some dumbass didn't leave the lights on in the foyer, so he tripped over packages left in the walk way. He cursed loudly as Steve came down the stairs from somewhere on the second floor. He kicked the boxes out of the way and then ran a hand back through his disheveled hair before closing his eyes.

Steve padded down the steps softly and stood off to the side. Bucky opened his eyes back up and blew out a breath as he looked over at Steve, he smiled sheepishly. Steve raised a small hand in a wave with a wavering smile.

"Hey, Stevie. C'mon let's go to bed," he mumbled.

Steve nodded and trailed behind Bucky, at least a few paces back until they got into the room. Bucky walked in and furrowed his brow, he heard the bedroom door close softly. He unbuttoned his shirt and flung his jacket to the other side of the room, next her unbuckled his pants and wrapped the belt around his hand to go put back into the closet. He turned to go to their closet, but when he turned he was stopped by the side of a shirtless and shivering Steve. 

Steve had his hands pressed on the wall flat above his head and his legs shoulders width apart. His head was hung and he made no sound as Bucky walked towards him. 

"Stevie?" Bucky asked.

Steve flinched and then drew into himself. The closer Bucky got to Steve, the clearer Steve's flesh became. On his back, there were thick and thin little scars and when the thoughts finally set into place he rushed Steve. He dropped his belt immediately and pulled Steve away from the wall and kissed his neck.

"Oh no, baby no. I will  _never_ hit you," Bucky admonished.

Steve shook in his embrace. Bucky continued to kiss his shoulders and face while whispering reassurances about how he was safe and how Bucky would take care of him forever. Steve's shaking subsided, and Bucky kicked himself mentally for ever coming home so pissed and scaring his boy. 

"I'm so sorry baby, so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you like that, never ever. I promise," Bucky soothed.

Steve twisted in his embrace and then sat on his lap while hugging him tightly, tucking his face into Bucky's shoulder. He was shuddering slightly, and Bucky wondered if he was crying. He hugged Steve's tightly to his chest and ran his fingers through his hair. 

"Baby, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Bucky whispered.

Steve shook his head in Bucky's embrace,"D-don't be. Thank you."

Bucky closed his eyes, feeling his chest tighten and the heat behind his eyes well up. Bucky kissed the top of Steve's head while rubbing his back in small circles.

"Don't thank me baby, don't. You should never have to go thank someone for not hurting you. I'd never hurt you, I'll protect you. I'll always protect you."

Steve's shaking increased even more as Bucky held him tightly and even Bucky let loose a few tears as he held his boy. He loved Steve so so much, so much that he would kill for Steve. And kill he would have to. 

Bucky kissed along Steve's arms and his hands, stopping when he saw the flecks of paint on Steve's hands and under his nails. He smiled slightly and rubbed his red rimmed eyes before speaking a little more softly to Steve to try and draw his mind out of what horrors his memories held. There was still a heaviness in his heart however, and he knew he'd have to make it up to Steve.  

"You're painting again," he said as he kissed Steve's fingers individually. 

Steve pulled his head out from Bucky's shoulder and smiled weakly, tear tracks evident on his face. Steve shrugged at Bucky and Bucky twined their hands together. 

"Do you want to show me?" 

Steve considered it for a moment, and then smiled slightly and nodded his head. Bucky smiled back and kissed Steve's lips before they got to their feet. He didn't let go of Steve's hand. 

The blond led him up the stairs and to the back part of the house where his studio resided, and pulled the small key Bucky gave him out of his jean pocket. He turned the key and reached for the light, turning it on and then waiting for Bucky to follow him inside the room. Upon entry, Bucky noticed the very vast differences between what it was when he first set it up to what it was now. 

There were a few drying pieces opposite from the wall of canvases that Bucky noted he would have to replace again. The pieces were done in oil and had a unanimous theme among them, and it hit Bucky that Steve was expressing his trauma and what was happening now in his life with art. There were bold dramatic colors and harsh angular black lines and splattered red on most of the canvases, and as they got larger in size and seemed more fresh the colors got lighter and the lines softer. Bucky walked with Steve through the studio marveling at the way that the faces hidden in the shadowy valued areas held exact expressions and memories. Most of the faces were blurred and distorted with fits of rage, but as Buck got to the lighter paintings he realized that the faces emerging were of his and Natasha's and some of the other underlings he met before. The paintings showed Steve's journey to the still yes frightened and confused man he is now, but also his gratitude and affection towards Bucky and his people. For the most part, it showed Bucky just exactly what Steve couldn't say in words. It showed his love. 

"Steve," Bucky breathed as he looked at the final in progress painting of two people embracing,"These are wonderful."

Steve twitched next to him and smiled lightly, trying to hide his excitement for praise. Bucky turned to Steve and pulled him into his arms, kissing him softly and lightly. He held Steve close to his body, and Bucky was sure that if he didn't say 'I love you' out loud, then this could convey it. 

However, later that night when Steve was snuggled up close to him and Bucky was sure he was asleep, Bucky did say those words. He kissed Steve's ear and whispered into the dark of the night and to a snoozing boy next to him he whispered those words. 

"I love you so much, Steve Rogers," he whispered to the boy. 

In his arms as he fell asleep, confident that Steve was asleep, the blond stared straight ahead with a large smile splitting his face in half.  _I'll say it, I'll tell him. One day he'll know how much I love him,_ he thought to himself. 

***

On the other side of town under the cover of the malicious night in a pub in the dregs of Queens where Bucky had yet to gain control was a secret meeting. In the back of the Irish pub where there was the guise of weekly poker games, was where it took place. The room was filled with smoke and on the walls over the Irish flags were red heads with tentacles coming out of them. The men sitting at the table in the center drinking expensive cognac, were not playing poker. There were four men present at the table, but it was clear who was the leader among them despite the rage that was built in two of the men. 

"I have some intel from a dear friend of ours who saw Barnes' boy in his office today, that the bastard is sniffing around our operations," Rumlow said as he breathed out a cloud of smoke.

Pierce made a noncommittal noise and shuffled through his jacket looking for a cigar. 

"Don't keep us waiting boy," Schmidt barked. 

Rumlow cast him a glare before continuing on,"I'm sure he's gathering information on us to work with his friends at the NYPD. And if what he's manages to scrounge up from the limited," he laughed," supply of information the NYPD has, isn't enough to alarm you boys is that he has something of mine."

Pierce looked up from lighting his cigarette and then stared at Rumlow who took his silence as a cue to speak with more fervor.

"He's stole something from me and I want it back. That little _bitch_ knows all of our secrets and he'll spill just as easy as he spreads his legs! I say we go in there, storm him for all he's got and make sure that this town knows who runs it! We need to show him--"

Pierce struck Rumlow hard across the face with his back hand,"Do shut up at anytime, Brock."

Brock glared at the table, but otherwise said nothing. 

"I told you that you should have disposed of the whore once he got too close to you, and you developed  _affections_ for him. This isn't my problem, but now you've made it my problem. By letting him into our group, you've put us all in danger," Pierce said a little too cooly. 

"So what do you suggest we do?" Zola said while fidgeting with his flask. 

Pierce turned his cold eyes to him,"I suggest, you sniveling pot of piss, that we end this once and for all."

***

Steve was flitting around the house, a few days after the moment where Bucky told him he loved him, and was nervous due to the plan he wanted to set into effect. He tried to calm himself down during the day by working on his current painting in his studio, but he just couldn't get over the butterflies in his stomach. If that wasn't enough for him to be nervous over, it was the fact that Bucky had graciously invited over his old friends for dinner. It seemed he had been talking to them recently, that they approved of him from what Steve was able to gather. Bucky had given him his own phone, a flip phone so that he could call the people he needed immediately and had less of a reason for people to hack his phone what with the certain people's numbers he had, and he was able to text or call his friends. They were excited for tonight, however excited was an understatement. It was making him nervous, so he decided to wander the garden for majority of the day to try and calm himself down before Bucky got home. 

Around the time when Bucky usually came home, was when Steve started to get ready. He figured that if he got ready before Bucky came home, then he would be able to hide from him until it was time to put the plan into effect. He took a graciously long shower, although torture without Bucky there to whisper in his ear and touching him all over--even if it was platonic, and then got out of the shower to really dress himself up. He took his time in the mirror, savoring how his body had filled out a little more and now he was at a weight that Banner deemed to be acceptable, although he still at more pounds he needed to gain. His scars were dulled and he looked less sickly now, he looked healthy. His hair and skin were brighter, his eyes were not as dull and instead held a luster of hope and something semblance to happiness even though they lost their carefree naivety. 

He shaved his face quickly, not much hair there growing much anyway, and then left to the closet. He hummed to himself as he wandered through Bucky's closet and felt a sort of overly excited happiness fill his chest. He smiled to himself and then pressed into the suits in Bucky's side as he noticed that his own clothes were paired next to them. He breathed in Bucky's smell and then stepped away and hid his hands in his face. He then stepped back and shook the feeling out of himself, but then giggled as he realized it wouldn't go away. He then got dressed with the silly smile on his face. After he pulled on the last of his jacket, he went back to the bathroom and slicked his hair up in a style that Bucky would approve of. He swept his bangs back from his face and then to the side, making sure all the hairs were in the right order and that he looked the part he was playing. As a final touch to his outfit, in the front pocket of his suit he selected Bucky's favorite handkerchief and then one of his set of cufflinks. He stood back from the full length mirror in the bedroom and drank in his appearance. He felt confident with the way he looked, and then blushed as he thought of what Bucky would think. 

The front door shut, and he panicked and ducked into the room across the hall that used to be his. _I've come a long way since then_ , he thought to himself. 

"Steve?" Bucky said a little hesitantly as he entered their bedroom.

There was a little bit of silence as Steve was sure he looked around for him, but then he heard Bucky start the shower and breathed a sigh of relief. He exited his old bedroom and then walked into the main foyer and looked around. There were maids and butlers scurrying around the room to get the house ready, and it was the busiest that Steve had ever seen the house be before. The maids were doing final touches on making sure the room was swept and the floors were shinny, while the butlers lowered some of the chandeliers and checked all of the light bulbs before raising them once again. He wandered to the dining room to look around. 

The large table in the room seemed to have doubled in size when Steve walked in, and he was marveled at the way that the white table cloth draped over it, and the curtains in the room were opened up to view the garden that had been trimmed all of today and the lights outside were lit to show of the mazes and water fountains. There were candelabras set between every four seats and flower arrangements between every two. The china on the table was white and fragile with gold leafing around the edges, and the silverware was actual silver with three sets of forks, two sets of spoons as well as knives. There were cloth napkins shaped into the form of flowers, and Steve felt as though he were a princess (namely Belle from  _Beauty and the Beast_ ). 

From the kitchen, wafted a beautiful smell and he was drawn to it immediately. He peered inside and watched as the very  _professional_ French chefs shouted at one another as they ran around trying to make the best dishes possible. Steve found himself smiling as he looked in and absorbed the scene. 

"What are you doing here?" Natasha said from behind him.

He jumped and turned, still intimidated by her despite her good intentions towards him at all times,"S-sorry. Just wanted to see."

Natasha's lips twitched like she wanted to smile, but refrained from doing so,"You'll ruin the surprise."

Steve looked up at her, his lips quirking into their own smile. He took in her appearance and would have gasped if he had the breath to do so. She was stunning. She was dressed in a fitted black dress with a hand sparkling diamond necklace around her throat and matching earrings dangling softly. Her lips were covered in a full red lipstick, matte but not as bright as Peggy's, and her eyes were cutting with the extra layer of mascara and eyeliner. Steve remembered to close his mouth as she smirked at him.

"Go on," Natasha said as she check her wrist watch quickly,"Your guests will be arriving soon."

Steve smiled at her and then walked out of the room and back into the foyer, mumbling a complement about her appearance as he left. He checked the time on the grandfather clock that was off to the side of the room. Ten minutes until their arrival. He sat down on the chaise lounge and watched the door. 

There were a few minutes of silence until the doors opened up, and he snapped his gaze to it. In strolled in Thor, Clint, Tony, Bruce, Pepper, and Sam. He relaxed as the familiar faces came in to his home. He smiled and gave a soft wave as they came in. 

"Steve-o," Tony sing songed as he walked in,"What's up my man?"

Pepper rolled her eyes and Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I didn't know you were going to be here tonight," Steve said dumbly. 

"Course man, Bucky wanted all of his friends and your friends to get along," Clint said as he laid a hand on Steve's shoulder.

"Barton. You're late." Natasha said from the other side of the foyer.

Clint groaned,"Excuse me, the wife calls."

Natasha rolled her eyes a the analogy and Steve got to his feet to talk with the others on an equal level. He talked with Thor and Tony and his partners for a while until they drifted off into their own bubble as work called them away, and then it was just him and Sam.

"Steve," Sam said warmly. 

Steve smiled and shook the mans hand. Since their fiasco at his previous therapy session, Steve had done everything to make it up to him. Sam had wholeheartedly told him it wasn't his fault and that he didn't blame him for anything that had happened. Since then, they had become closer friends. 

"Sam, it's good to see you," Steve said back.

"How have you been?"

Steve wrung his hands together,"Good, good."

Sam laughed,"Nervous? That's understandable, but don't worry. They seem like good guys, and Bucky would never let anything bad happen to you no matter how many times it is that he fucks up."

"Hey, I resent that," Bucky said from behind Sam.

Sam stepped to the side and Steve took in the crime boss, his cheeks flushing all the way. 

"I think that's my cue to leave," Sam said good-naturedly and then pat Steve on the arm.

Bucky came up and stood in front of Steve, not breaking eye contact,"Yeah yeah, get outta here old man."

Sam rolled his eyes and then walked over to the other clump of Bucky's friends. 

"Hey, there," Bucky purred.

Steve found himself speechless as Bucky came into his personal space. 

"I missed you all day," Bucky said as he ran a hand over Steve's cheek. 

Steve nodded in agreement, tongue not seeming to work.

Bucky laughed and then leaned in and kissed Steve's lips, not taking the kiss any further than that. 

"There's a car out front," Clint exclaimed from the front, peeping out the window with Tony. 

Steve looked to the door, and Bucky turned with him. The two of them walked towards the door as the butlers walked up and grasped the door handles to open them once the doorbell was rung. Clint and Tony were dragged away to behind Bucky and Steve by their respective partners, and it was now or never that Steve said it. He turned to Bucky as the doorbell rang and the butlers moved to open the door and exposed his feelings to Bucky.

"I love you too," he squeaked and then turned back to the door just as they opened, leaving Bucky standing there gaping at him and flushing down his neck. 

Steve plastered on a smile and then stepped forward to greet his friends as they walked in. Bucky on the other hand opened and closed his mouth like a fish and then looked back at Clint who was trying to hide his laughter in Natasha's shoulder (who was smirking at him, mind you) and then Tony who fist pumped violently while Bruce tried to get him to stop and Pepper smiled fondly, Thor laughed heartily while Sam did a small dance in place. Bucky turned back and then cleared his throat and stepped towards Steve, his arm going out his waist and greeted Steve's friends. 

"Rogers! You animal!" Dum dum bellowed. 

Morita and Denier walked in side by side, whispering furiously in French and then turning to Steve and smiling broadly while Gabe embraced him in a hug. Peggy and Angie walked in soon after them, and Peggy kissed Steve's cheek while Angie smiled fondly. Peter however, was the last to stumble into the door with Howard hot on his heals and grinning like a mad man. 

"Howie!" Tony screamed from the back.

"Tony," Howard greeted a little stiffly. 

Howard nodded at Tony once, and then turned to Steve and spoke to him briskly but with charm and care. 

"Howard Stark," Howard said as he thrust his hand out in front of Bucky. 

Bucky shook his hand, noticing how the man's grip was distracted but trying to give firm pressure,"James Barnes." 

A look flashed in Howard's eyes before he turned to look at Steve,"Going for the rich I see Steve. Smart move. As for you dear cousin, I'm not surprised. Kid always did like to tinker with bots, even if he wasn't always funded. Too flighty and lacks seriousness."

Tony grumbled,"Thanks Howie, only two years older than you but okay."

Howard stepped to the side and that was when Steve took the lead in the conversation.

"James, these are my friends. I'm s-sorry they're a little...strange," Steve said, obviously trying to fall back into an old habit of playing aloof. 

His friends, gracious as they are, pretended that Steve didn't falter at all. 

"You wound me," Denier said in mock hurt. 

Steve smiled, edges wobbling slightly. 

"We're more than just pretty faces, Rogers," Dum dum teased. 

Steve's smile slipped a little, and he whispered out a quick apology. 

"Don't be, kid," Sam said, speaking up a little for him.

Bucky squeezed Steve reassuringly and kissed the top of his head.

"Thought you said he wasn't your boyfriend," Peter spoke up, trying to change the conversation. 

"Ah Queens, my young pupil," Tony said as he slung an arm around Peter,"gotta read between the lines."

Peter squawked and then tried to explain his reasoning to Tony, as Bucky tuned them out and began to flawlessly introduce himself. 

"We mostly just ignore Stark when he gets like that," Bucky said with a smile. 

"I can imagine," Howard replied. 

From there, the conversation was little easier to conduct and it spiraled into everyone exchanging names and stories about one another. However, most of the stories were about recent events in all of their lives and Steve found himself smiling and nodding more than he was speaking. No one seemed to notice, until Dum dum turned to him unthinkingly and asked what he had been up to in the recent years and what had been keeping him. 

"Well I...I um...I've been..." he floundered. 

However, Bucky stepped in immediately and saved him from the awkwardness of having to explain how he had been an abuse victim for the past few years,"He broke up with his boyfriend recently, and since he's been living here free lancing art."

"Oh thank god, no offense man, but that Brock guy was an asshole. I bumped into him at a bar a year back and asked him about you, he did not seem like he was in a good mood," Morita said while shaking his head. 

Steve remembered the night vividly.  _One of your pissant friends had the audacity to talk to me tonight, and you know what I told him? I told him you were dead, and he didn't give two shits about you. No one would._

"No, he wasn't," Steve mumbled under his breath, Bucky was the only one to catch it. 

Bucky cleared his throat and then held out one arm dramatically, as hosts do,"Shall me adjourn to the dining room."

Natasha made eye contact with him and then began to put on her hostess face and ushered everyone away and into the dining room, a few of Steve's friends casting worried glances over their shoulders. Steve made to go after them, but Bucky caught his wrist. 

"Are you alright, baby? We can ask them to leave if you want," Bucky offered.

Steve felt his anxiety drop slightly at the pet name, but shook his head,"No...no, just don't like all the attention much."

Bucky drew him in for a hug,"Okay, doll. Okay, I can fix that."

Steve hugged him back, and they stayed embraced for a few moments until Bucky felt that any longer would be socially unacceptable (not that he cared much). He held Steve's hand and they started their slow walk into the dining room.

"Oh, and Steve?"

"Yes?" he asked with an innocent blink.

Bucky smiled knowingly,"We're talking about your little surprise later."

He kissed Steve's forehead and then walked into the room, a blushing and sputtering Steve trailing behind him.

***

The dinner party went swimmingly. As promised, Bucky absorbed most of the attention and seated himself at the head and facilitated the conversation. He made sure that the spotlight was off of Steve 100% and that he did participate, but he wasn't the head of the conversation. Most of Steve's friends seemed to notice, and were respectful of Steve's decision to fade into the background. Dinner was easy and light, but loud and it startled Steve sometimes when people spoke to him a little too directly or when they were a little to loud with their flatware. He'd flinch sometimes in the seat next to Bucky and then kind of shake his head at himself for acting so stupid, and in turn Bucky would squeeze his hand under the table. Dinner ended, and Bucky ushered everyone out onto the terrace of the garden for coffee and brandy, very uptown. 

As they filed out and broke up into clusters of groups, Bucky was whisked away while Steve waited for him to return as he looked out from the balcony. He stood there, eyes closed and feeling the wind blow through his hair when Howard and Peggy stood on either side of him. Howard lit a thin cigarette and Peggy sipped her cappuccino, Steve shifted uncomfortably at their proximity but didn't move away. It seemed as though Bucky were detained in a rather interesting conversation with Gabe, Denier, Morita, and Dum dum. Convenient. 

"Nice night," Howard said around his cigarette before taking a drag. 

Steve nodded, knowing in the back of his mind that this scenario had happened sometime before his tumultuous time with Brock. Peggy took another sip and then set her cup down on the railing. 

"So, Steve. How are you," Peggy said, prying. 

"I'm good."  _Now_ , he thought bitterly. 

Howard tapped his cigarette out,"Steve, I'm gonna cut to the chase. What the shit have you been up to? I know that story he told about free lancing was a crock of shit. And we know who he is Steve, don't act like you don't know either."

Steve stared down at the lights and the pond in the middle of the garden. Peggy cleared her throat. 

"What Howard  _means to say_ , is that we're worried about you. Does he hit you, Steve? Your reactions aren't normal, and your relationship with Brock certainly wasn't. Given James' line of work, I wouldn't be surprised if he--"

" _He_ doesn't hit me!" Steve snapped. 

"But Brock did," Howard said quietly while taking another drag. 

Steve scuffed his shoe on the ground. 

"Steve, we looked for you after you disappeared. You were gone for so long and no one knew where you were, we even put in missing persons cases but they said there was no record of you. Howard poured so much of his inheritance into research for you, but nothing came up. I became a PI, and when the trail went cold we didn't have that many leads to follow..." Peggy trailed off. 

"So you stopped looking for me," Steve whispered.

Howard snubbed his cigarette out,"Absolutely not. Steve, I'd have kept looking for you until the day I died."

Peggy placed a hand on Steve's shoulder and turned to him while brushing his bangs out of the way,"Steve, you're our best friend. We never stopped looking, it just became harder to do so. And when we ran into you on the street so alive and well, I felt like a huge jackass for not trying as hard as I could have."

"It's not your fault, you didn't know. It was all my fault, I was stupid and got mixed up in shit I didn't understand even when you guys told me it was wrong," he depreciated. 

Howard wrapped his arm around Steve's shoulder, drawing him into a side hug,"Don't blame yourself, kid. It's not your fault at all. It's that jackass Brock that's to blame. Never did like him, and when you went missing you bet your ass I tried every conceivable way to get him arrested for kidnapping. Anything." 

Steve's heart swelled up with warmth. If only he'd had more faith in them back then, then maybe he wouldn't have broken so easily. There was silence that crowded around them for a while, the three of them just taking in the night until Steve decided they were owed more than what he had been giving them. 

"Brock," he started, voice breaking into a whisper,"was nice...at first. But uh...then he uh, he wasn't. He h-hurt me, a lot. And um, Bucky saved me." that was all he was willing to share, and they didn't push it any further. 

Howard quietly laughed and shook his head,"A real prince charming, your boy." 

Steve ducked his head and giggled, the sound having not been heard for a long time. It made Peggy and Howard both smile.

"Well, he seems to be fine. But, he's still gotta pass the Carter inspection," Peggy teased.

Steve covered his eyes with one hand and then tipped his head on her shoulder,"Thank you guys, really."

Howard and Peggy both hugged Steve and then stepped away and slipped back into their personalities they showed to the public. 

"It's getting a little too warm out here, gotta go wash all this  _affection_ off of me," Howard said over dramatically and then walked away to go tease his cousin. 

Peggy only winked and then walked over to Angie, as Bucky was miraculously let out of his conversation with the Howlies. He strolled over to Steve who was looking at him with an honest and open expression with so much trust, and waited for him. Bucky came up beside Steve and sat their glasses down on the railing and rested his own over Steve's perched on the railing as well. Bucky smiled fondly, oh so in love, down at him and then spoke kindly.

"They're good people," he whispered.

"They are. So are your friends," Steve replied with a bat of his long eyelashes.

Bucky looked over to where his friends were and Steve watched after him as Bucky hugged him from behind, resting his head on Steve's. Clint was currently perched precariously over a bush of particularly throny rose bushes while Tony was throwing olives from his fourth (eighth if you asked Bruce and Pepper) martini. Natasha was idly watching from beside him on the balcony, yawning into her hand as the other reached up to push on his calf. Thor was watching excitedly but trying to stable Clint (poorly) while Peter cheered on obnoxiously. Peggy, Howard, and the Howlies were trying not to laugh too loudly as Sam urged Clint on to do a backflip. 

As Clint flipped and then landed back on his feet and turned to the crowd, Natasha shoved his leg and he tumbled into the bushes. Bucky's chest rumbled behind Steve as he laughed, and Steve thought to himself,  _I could get used to this._

***

The party had cleared out, and it was just Bucky and Steve in their own house. Theirs.  _Theirs._ As in together. It was close to midnight, and Steve wasn't yet tired and nor was Bucky. They retired to their bedroom, and as they got in the room Steve was pulled over to the bed and pinned down by Bucky. He heart rate sped up, and he felt panic rise until he remembered where he was and registered the look on Bucky's face. Bucky's face was relaxed and showed absolutely nothing but adoration and love. Steve felt his mouth curl up into a smile as he brushed back Bucky's bangs with his hand. 

"Hey," Steve whispered.

"Hey," Bucky said back. 

Steve stared at Bucky for a few more seconds, drinking in his appearance and just trying to memorize the sheer beauty of Bucky Barnes. 

"Bucky," Steve said for the first time, testing the name out as he slid his hand down Bucky's face.

Bucky closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, kissing Steve's palm in the process,"Stevie," he breathed,"I love you."

Steve rubbed a circular motion over Bucky's cheekbones and whispered back to Bucky,"I love you too."

Bucky's eyes opened back up, and he looked down at Steve with his bright blue-grey eyes. 

"I-I know that spring it on you like that, wasn't conventional," Steve said, eyes sliding to a rather interesting lightbulb on the ceiling. 

Bucky chuckled,"No, no it wasn't. But we aren't very conventional are we?" he teased.

Steve laughed and then looked down at Bucky again.

"Thank you," Bucky said as he coughed,"Steve, for telling me that. I know that...it's a big deal."

Steve flushed and looked away again. Bucky studied Steve's face and then started to lean in a little more, brushing away Steve's bangs. 

"Can I kiss you?" he whispered in Steve's ear, lips brushing the shell.

"Yes," Steve breathed.

Bucky pulled back and then slowly, hesitantly, he leaned in and he kissed Steve's lips. He pressed their lips together softly, and then swiped his tongue slowly over Steve's bottom lip. Steve opened his mouth and let Bucky inside, his eyes sliding shut as he let Bucky kiss him. They stayed together, necking like a couple of teenagers until their lips felt swollen and they were panting for breath and dizzy. For Steve, the kiss felt like it was as though part of his soul was being given to Bucky. When he used to kiss Brock, they were always filled with lust and passion but never slow and tender. It was for this reason, that Steve knew that even if Bucky ever told him he was "free to go" although he no longer felt like he was caged or kept, he would want to kiss Bucky for the rest of his life. Here, right now, in front of him was the man he could see himself marrying in the future. He could see five or ten years from now marrying or still living with Bucky and being just as in love as he was right now. 

As for .Bucky, he had seen all of this since the first day he'd met Steve. He would cherish and love and devote his entire life to Steve. Steve was his, and he was Steve's. They were each other's, and they were happy. Steve blinked away the tears welling up in his eyes and gripped Bucky's shoulders tightly, he' never been this happy in his life before. 

"Steve, doll, what's wrong?" Bucky said as he brushed away the loose tears on his face.

Steve let a few more fall, knowing he couldn't hide anything from Bucky anymore,"I-I love you. I love you so much. I've never loved someone like this before. I thought that I loved Brock...but even then...I didn't. I love you more than I probably should."

Bucky kissed Steve's tears away,"Baby, baby doll. It's okay, it's okay. I love you too, I love you so much. I can't imagine my life without you."

"You can't?" Steve asked, voice thick with emotion.

"No. I can't. I can't live without you Steve Rogers, I love you too much."

Steve held onto Bucky and laughed through his tears, sobs sometimes hiccuping in between but then Bucky was there. He was there and he was kissing Steve's tears away and then he was kissing Steve, and Steve couldn't have been any happier if he tried. This, this moment right here is where he could and would live for the rest of his life if God let him. 

"Steve, Steve, Steve," Bucky repeated his name like a mantra and then, the next thing Steve knew he was being stripped so gently and sweetly of his clothes. 

Not once did he feel Brock's hands on him as Bucky peeled his clothes off of him and kissed down his torso, checking in every once in a while to see if this was okay or if he were doing anything that Steve didn't like. Steve answered him no, this is fine each time. And then, it was just them. No clothes between them and they were just skin on skin still kissing so gently and sweetly. Steve could feel the choir chorus and the deep violin strings in his chest and he felt so content. So happy, so full. So loved. 

Bucky reached between them to grasp Steve's small erection, and watched his face for any kind of reaction that was bad. Steve only gazed up at Bucky with wide eyes and let his nails press into Bucky's skin as Bucky brought him closer to the edge. He stroked Steve softly and languidly while the blond's hips worked up to meet his downward strokes. He looked at Bucky who's pupils were dilated, skin flush, and hair falling out of its neat order. Steve whimpered as he started to get closer and his toes started to curl.

"N-not yet," he breathed against Bucky's neck,"Wanna...wanna be with you."

Steve felt Bucky's gasp of air against his shoulder, and then the hand was stroking once more and was gone. He pulled back from Steve and looked down at him.

"You sure?" he asked, checking in once more.

Steve kissed Bucky's arm closest to him,"I'm sure. I want...I want  _you_."

Bucky ducked his head and laughed at himself,"What did I do to deserve you?"

He pulled back from Steve and then reached into their bedside table, fishing out a condom and a bottle of lube. He looked down at Steve once more as he uncapped the lid, and kissed Steve's swollen lips.

"You tell me if it gets to be too much, I'll love you still even if you can't go through with this. I don't need sex to validated our relationship, I just need you," Bucky promised.

Steve's eyes well up again and he brought a hand over his mouth, trying to conceal his sobs,"Yo-you're so wonder-rful. So good t-to me."

"Oh Stevie," Bucky whispered as he gathered Steve up in his arms. 

He held Steve in his arms until the blond was kissing at his neck and urging him to continue on. Bucky laid him back on the bed and took Steve's somewhat wilted erection into his mouth and began to suck. He worked his tongue over the underside and over the head as he bobbed on, and when Steve was just as hard as he had been he started to coat his fingers liberally with lube. He took Steve down to the hilt and sucked as he pressed one finger inside. Steve moaned at the intrusion, and Bucky hummed in response. The blond's little hips thrust up into Bucky's mouth and then settled back on the bed when Bucky's other arm came to press his hips down against the mattress. He continued to suck on Steve as his one finger curled and searched for Steve's prostate. When he couldn't find it, he stuck in a second finger and then began to scissor him open as well as alternate between curling his fingers until Steve moaned long and low. Bucky grinned around his cock then continued to assault the sensitive region until Steve's ass felt like it was loose enough for a third one. At this point, Bucky pulled off after swallowing around Steve's cock once more and smiled with glossy lips. 

"My good boy," he hummed.

Steve blushed and hid his face in the pillows next to him. Bucky kissed Steve's hip and then continued to finger fuck him for long torturing minutes until he was sure that it was time for Steve to take the real thing. He tore the package to the condom open and rolled it down his cock before grabbing Steve's legs and bringing them around his waist. 

"Steve, Stevie baby," he purred,"look at me."

Steve moved his face from out of the cool pillows and looked up at Bucky with hazy wanting eyes.

"Hey, doll. There you are. You alright?"

Steve nodded. 

"Alright baby, are you ready? You tell me if it's too much."

Steve nodded once more, and reached for Bucky's hand. Bucky leg go of his left leg and grabbed Steve's open hand and kissed the knuckles as he slowly lined himself up and began to push. Steve grabbed his hand harshly and groaned as Bucky kept pushing. Bucky pushed slowly and stopped every few seconds for Steve to adjust and for his brows to stop trying to push together into a unibrow of pain. When he was finally seated all the way inside of Steve, and Steve himself was holding onto his hand tightly and moaning totally blissed out was when Bucky bent over and kissed at Steve's sweaty bangs. He wasn't going to last much longer if Steve kept squeezing him this tightly down below. 

"You did such a good job, my god boy. My sweet boy," he cooed.

Steve kissed the side of Bucky's face and jaw, both arms coming to wrap around his neck and hold him in place,"Love you...love you. Hold me-please. Like this?"

Bucky looked at Steve, not even two inches away from him and kissed the tip of his nose,"Anything for you. Always."

He slowly then moved his hips forward softly and pulled back enough to see Steve's face scrunch up at the pull. He kept the slow agonizing rhythm up until Steve was just moaning his name over and over again, his asshole fluttering around him as he stabbed at his prostate. Bucky ducked his head into the crook of Steve's neck and kissed there, licking and sucking dark marks to show that Steve was his and his alone. Steve felt his dick bob and scrape against Bucky's abs, and he knew he was close. The intimacy of being connected to someone so closely and so sweetly too much for him to handle. 

"B-Buck, m'close," he whined.

Bucky's voice was ragged when he spoke again,"Me too, oh me too baby."

Bucky pulled back from Steve's neck and looked down at him to watch as Steve got off on being fucked by him so tenderly. He reached between them and began to jerk Steve off softly, watching the blond moan and whine until his face was constantly pinched up into arousal.

"Bucky!" He screamed.

"Go on, go one baby, you deserve it," Bucky whispered as he pressed a kiss against Steve's lips.

Steve kissed him back and fervently, his toes curling and his breath catching. His body shuddered as he felt his body shake apart at his orgasm, a rough breath escaping him and flitting away. Bucky thrust a few more times into Steve whispering how much he loved him until he too was spilling inside of Steve. Bucky collapsed over Steve and held onto him, trembling at the intensity and staring down at Steve who was only rubbing soothing circles into his back while looking at him with so much love. 

"I love you, Bucky," Steve whispered between breaths.

Bucky kissed Steve's still clutched hand in his and whispered it back like a prayer,"I love you too Steve Rogers, I always will. Always."

***

Bucky left for work reluctantly the next morning, and Steve saw him to the car while smiling and still wrapped up in one of Bucky's shirts. 

"What are your plans today?" Bucky asked as he slipped into the car and watched Steve step back from the running vehicle.

"Just gonna go out, maybe buy some paints with Sam today," Steve said.

Bucky smiled,"Be back by lunch time, I might be home to surprise you."

"Is that so?" Steve teased as he leaned in for one last kiss.

Bucky kissed him back softly before his driver set the car into drive,"Just have to wait and find out."

And with that, Bucky was waving goodbye and driving down their drive and heading off to work to deal with business. Steve was left standing on their porch with the mystified notion of a lunch date, and feeling his heart soar across the sky. 

***

Steve stepped back on the sidewalk outside of the little boutique and walked towards the car. He had bought his necessary paints and was trying not to feel the butterflies in his stomach let him trip on the curb as he got into the car smiling to himself. Sam hadn't been able to go out with him today, so it was just him and his driver Friday today out on the town. He had just enough time to leave the boutique and get back to Bucky if he left now. 

"Friday, can you please take us back home?" he asked politely as he checked for messages on his phone. 

Instead of the driver's usually chipper voice, there was a distinctly gruff voice and the cold press of a gun against his temple,"Hey honey, I'm home."

Steve turned to see Brock Rumlow sitting next to him and screamed. In the front seat, Friday was missing and replaced by Zola who sat there smugly and then started the car. He tried to reach for the handle of the car door, but Brock pulled him back and a cloth was placed over his mouth; silencing his screams from the outside world and cutting his vision off. 

"Welcome back, whore," Brock spat as Steve's world went black. 

**Author's Note:**

> ...I'm so sorry...


End file.
